The Traveller: Crossover
by Channeller
Summary: While on a short mission to Earth, one crewmember's curiosity is awakened by a mysterious young man who doesn't really seem to... fit in.
1. He followed me home, can I keep him?

Title: The Traveller: Crossover.  
  
Could be an episode of a completely different TV series, although sadly not one that exists in real life...  
  
Disclaimer: The usual. Don't own these characters... blah blah... wish I did, I'd be rich. But I do own Milon though, so hands off! Although he hasn't brought me much money as of yet…  
  
Spoilers: Not for Andromeda, it's all made up stuff. Spoilers for the Traveller maybe...  
  
Rating: PG-13, I guess, I'm not that good with these things. There be violence and some reasonably foul mouths. Might even be some "romance" in the future, if you're lucky!  
  
Reviews: Oh yes please! This is the first ever fanfic I've written, so I'd really like to know if it's worth while bothering, or should I just stick with my original characters?  
  
Still confused? Check out www.continue.to/brinkofmadness and click on the pentagram-in-a-ring type symbol to go to EterniVision Cracked...  
  
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Prologue. Of a sorts.  
  
It happened so fast. Too fast even for him to keep up. Crossing over, one second standing in the pentangle between the Channellers, watching the veil become transparent. Then a street. Fire, screaming and the veil solidifying again behind him. Leaving him alone. Well, if you didn't count the cameras.  
  
Then something lunged at him from the shadows, knocking him to the ground during the vulnerable first second in this new world. Someone was standing over him, pointing something at him. He had time to hope that the people back home would pull him out when they saw how badly things were going. Then there was a flash, and things went black.  
  
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Chapter One: He followed me home, can I keep him?  
  
Earth. What a cesspit. Tyr could not understand what possible value a stopover here could have, but after this long couldn't really be bothered arguing the captain's decisions when they meant nothing to him. "Don't sweat the petty things" in other words. (And don't pet the sweaty things. Old Earth saying apparently, according to Harper.) Besides, it was kind of nice just to get out and stretch your legs. Get in some quality time with the guns and that. Being stuck on a spaceship for months on end was enough to give a man cabin fever. Well, a lesser man anyway. And even Tyr had to agree that you can only do so many laps around the Andromeda before those corridors start losing their appeal.  
  
The plan had been simple enough. Dock ship. Get map out. X marks the spot. Go off and purchase those bits of technology that "you didn't get for anywhere near that price at any other place in the entire the galaxy, possibly even the known universe…" That was roughly about the point at which Tyr had stopped listening. Suffice to say that they had set out in a group of three. Trance, Harper and Tyr to baby-sit, make sure they didn't get into any trouble. Yeah, the plan had been straightforward. Of course, things rarely go to plan these days now, do they?  
  
So what had gone wrong? Didn't really matter. They had arrived at the 'shop' only to find its owner pretty much turned into minced meat. The phrase 'there was blood everywhere!' applied. Then there had been gunfire, screaming and a fair amount of running. The group of three was now a group of one, which was just the way he liked it anyway. The others had taken off in the opposite direction, i.e. away from the ship. Tyr doubted that it was due to a cunning plan, it was more likely that their sense of direction was nowhere near as good as his. So that left him with two options; go back to the ship only to have Dylan tell him to go back out there and find the errant crewmembers, or go looking for them on his own initiative. Tyr had always preferred his own initiative.  
  
The streets were strangely desolate in this area. None of the buildings seemed occupied, doors and windows were mostly boarded up. It was like everybody had just upped and left the place. Tyr couldn't blame them. That seemed like the best way to deal with this entire planet in his opinion.  
  
A sudden gust of wind came sweeping along the street, blowing litter and grit along the ground. It grabbed a hold of a door that was slightly ajar and flung it open. Tyr spun around. Not because the sound fooled him, he recognised it for what it was, but if anybody was trying to ambush him they might take this as an opportunity, thinking he was distracted. Behind him, the street was just as empty as it had been.  
  
The now wide open door seemed to be the only one along the whole street that had not been nailed shut. Tyr knew the other two had disappeared off somewhere into this area, and this seemed like as good a hiding place as any. He pulled his gun for safety and stepped through the doorway.  
  
The building he entered had probably once been some kind of warehouse, but lately it seemed to have been used for an entirely different purpose. Strange symbols were painted along the walls in a dark red colour that looked suspiciously like blood. He couldn't tell at this distance because the whole room stank of it anyway. The interior decoration left a lot to wish for. A few broken chairs, candlesticks in abundance and... was that a shopping trolley? Earthmen, lunatics the lot of them. Just as well the place was deserted.  
  
The layout of the building was that of an L-shape, the part where he had entered a kind of foyer off the end of a long, narrow hall. As he turned the corner, he realised that he had been wrong. The place was not deserted after all. At the far end of the hall, a man was standing. No, not so much standing as hanging. He was shackled to the wall; his arms wide apart over his head and his feet clamped together on the floor. Tyr found the whole scene vaguely reminiscent of something religious.  
  
The second thing he noticed was that the man's hair was completely white, in fact so much so that it seemed almost like it was glowing in the dimly lit room. He was only wearing a pair of torn, bloody jeans and there were smudges of blood on his chest and face, but Tyr could not see any cuts or bruises so it was hard to tell if the blood was his own or if somebody had smeared him with it. His head was hanging down; he was either dead or unconscious. If it hadn't been for the stench of blood Tyr would have been able to tell from his scent, but as it was, he would have to walk up to the man to determine his condition. He holstered his gun and walked the length of the room in a couple of long paces.  
  
As he came closer he saw that despite the white hair, the man did not appear to be very old; the body was that of a young man. Quite slim, but with finely shaped muscles. His skin was pale, only a shade from that of an albino. Tyr put a hand under the man's chin and lifted his head to look at his face. Yes, he was young, even younger than Tyr had thought. In his early twenties, maybe, although it was hard to tell exactly. He had a soft, clean-lined face that might very well make him appear younger than he was. He was most likely human, although there was something about him that made Tyr think he might not be. He seemed too… perfect.  
  
Suddenly, the young man's eyes fluttered open and he gave Tyr a look filled with apprehension. Well, that was an understatement, it was fear, really that he saw in those light green eyes. But there was something else there as well. Something that told Tyr that despite how it might look, this was not yet a broken man. Hope was maybe too strong a word for it, but... there was something.  
  
"What is your name?" Tyr asked.  
  
"Get me down and I'll tell you."  
  
Tyr's eyebrows rose in surprise and he could almost feel a smile coming on.  
  
"Do you really feel that you are in a position to negotiate?" he said.  
  
"Aren't you always?"  
  
Tyr found himself stepping back to give the man's forearms an involuntary glance. Not that he had ever come across any Nietzschean pride where white hair was present in the young. And, of course, the man's arms were smooth, no sign of any bone blades. Still, he seemed so together, for a human.  
  
"So tell me then, why should I set you free? What could I possibly have to gain from it?"  
  
The young man gave him a look that showed only the slightest hint of desperation.  
  
"A warm feeling of helping out your fellow man?"  
  
"But you are not my fellow man. You are human, are you not?"  
  
He looked the man into the eyes, where he now saw only confusion.  
  
"Of course! Aren't you?"  
  
Tyr could not believe his ears. This was earth, this man was human by his own admission, and still he asked something like that?  
  
"No, I am a Nietzschean," he said calmly.  
  
He folded his arms across his chest. As if he needed to make any demonstrations to this boy.  
  
"Oh, right."  
  
Oh, right? One of those? It was incredible; the boy sounded like the name meant nothing to him. That could not be.  
  
"Yes. So, tell me again, why should I help you?"  
  
"I guess the goodness of your heart is out of the question too, eh?"  
  
He had an accent Tyr could not place. Not that he was much up on earth lingo. He had some nerve as well, talking to Tyr like that. All the same, he could not deny that the boy impressed him slightly with his courage. Tyr drew his gun and powered it up. That lit the fear back up in those green eyes.  
  
"Hey, hang on now…"  
  
The young man's words were cut short by the sound of Tyr's gun. In one fluid motion he shot the first manacle off the wall, then the second, and caught the prisoner as he fell forward. The boy immediately started to struggle to free himself and stand up, but Tyr fired his gun again, this time at the shackles around his feet. The now free man got to his feet and across the room in a heartbeat. He almost seemed more wary of Tyr now that he had released him. Clever boy.  
  
"Thanks," he said.  
  
Kid was wired tight like a spring, rubbing his wrists where the manacles had been, ready to bolt for the door at any false move. Tyr didn't really care if he ran, what would he want with him anyway? He re-holstered his gun and started to turn away.  
  
"I'm Milon," he kid said, "Who're you?"  
  
Tyr looked at him. Did he really not know how lucky he was he had been found by the right kind of Nietzschean? Obviously not. For a split second he considered giving him the full presentation, but then he decided to leave it at:  
  
"Tyr."  
  
"Well, Tyr… you seem like a decent enough bloke, what with the letting me go free and all… maybe you could tell me… where am I?"  
  
This was just getting weirder.  
  
"Earth," Tyr said.  
  
To his surprise, the young man actually smiled.  
  
"Well, yeah. Care to narrow it down a bit?"  
  
"No."  
  
Mostly because he couldn't remember the exact name for the area. He had not even paid attention any further than the 'Tyr, can you keep them safe and help them carry?' bit.  
  
"Fair enough," the white-haired boy said, but he looked a little disappointed, "So… where are you from then?"  
  
"Most recently, the starship Andromeda."  
  
"Starship? You said 'starship,' right?"  
  
"Yes."  
  
"Cool. So, you're really an alien then?"  
  
The kid was looking at him funny. Well, not funny, but… intently. Like he was trying to tell if he was telling the truth or not.  
  
"I have already told you, I am a Nietzschean. And I do not have time for this…"  
  
Tyr started walking away. The boy was either simple or out of his head on some drug. What he said did not make any sense. Still, Tyr could not escape the feeling that neither of those things could be further away from the truth.  
  
Suddenly there was a sound around the corner, out near the door. Somebody was coming into the building. Tyr quickly drew his gun and stepped up against the wall. Whoever it was, they were walking lightly, trying to be silent, but Tyr could still clearly hear the footsteps coming closer. A shape emerged from behind the corner. Tyr extended his gun hand.  
  
"Do not move."  
  
The person froze. Then Tyr recognised Trance's purple form and lowered the gun.  
  
"Oh, it is only you."  
  
"Tyr! I'm happy to see you too!"  
  
Then Trance spotted Milon and took a couple of steps towards him. Tyr could see the young man's eyes go wide, this time more out of curiosity than fear.  
  
"Who are you?" Trance asked in a friendly tone.  
  
"Um… my name's Milon… and you are…?"  
  
"Trance. Are you hurt?"  
  
"Not really. Just tired."  
  
The alien and the human stared at each other. A little too long. What was going on?  
  
"Trance!"  
  
"Yeah?"  
  
"We have no time for this. Let us go."  
  
"No, we have time! I found Harper, he's waiting outside… and we can't just leave… Milon here."  
  
"What is it that you propose we do with him?"  
  
Trance gave him one of those annoyingly cheerful looks, one that said she wasn't going to let this one go easily.  
  
"We should take him back to the Andromeda, or at least to the Maru down the station… make sure he's not hurt!"  
  
Tyr was just about to voice his opinion on just how bad an idea that was, when Harper came running into the room, waving his arms about.  
  
"Hey, guys, time to get moving, company coming this way, and fast!"  
  
He had hardly time to finish the sentence before running footsteps were heard outside. Tyr drew his gun and headed for the door.  
  
"Where are you going? You're gonna run right into them!"  
  
It was Milon. He sounded genuinely surprised.  
  
"I do not see that we have much of a choice in the matter," Tyr replied offhandedly.  
  
"We do. Back door."  
  
He started off towards a dark corner, and a second later a rectangle of daylight appeared in the far wall. Tyr thought it very unlikely that this was some kind of elaborate trap, so after quickly weighing his options he followed the three of them out the new door.  
  
They ran, not even staying to see how many their pursuers were. Too many, that's how many. And too heavily armed. Tyr would not really have minded staying and fighting, but he had no reason for wanting his fellow two crewmembers dead, and that was most likely what it would come to. As for the white haired boy, running seemed to be what he did best. He was keeping up with Tyr's fast pace, not problem, although he did look tired. They ran down the street, and down towards the docking station. It seemed like they had actually managed to shake off the enemies. Good, they could leave now. Tyr had had more than enough of Earth for one day.  
  
He stopped and waited for Trance and Harper to catch up. Milon stopped next to him, staring down at the harbour and the ships docked there.  
  
"So, I guess you weren't messing, eh? Those things are really… spaceships, aren't they?"  
  
Tyr turned his head to look at him. He looked exhausted, but strangely elated at the same time. Tyr found himself wondering if the boy had never been outside that warehouse. But if so, why had he been abandoned after such a long time? He was a mystery, and Tyr could not deny that he was slightly intrigued.  
  
"Hey, who's this guy?"  
  
Harper sounded out of breath, it made his voice a bit high-pitched.  
  
"I'm Milon."  
  
"Milon, eh? Those guys friends of yours?"  
  
He made a gesture down the now empty street behind them.  
  
"No, I don't know who they are… I don't even know…"  
  
His voice trailed off and he put a hand over his eyes.  
  
"Are you okay?"  
  
Trance walked up to him and put a hand on his shoulder. Tyr saw the boy twitch, shying away from the touch. He was certainly on his guard with them; still, there was something quite… ingenuous about him. Whatever. It was time to leave him and go… home.  
  
"Where are you from?" Trance asked Milon.  
  
"Well… Earth… not around here though…"  
  
Suddenly, the boy's legs seemed to fail him and he sank down with his back to one of the large containers littering the docks. Tyr could almost smell the exhaustion on him, and it was definitely not only from the running just now.  
  
"We should get him to medical," Trance said.  
  
"Why? He is not our problem. You cannot just pick up any stray off the streets and bring him aboard the ship."  
  
"Why not?"  
  
She was doing it again. Looking at him with that frustrating, good- natured smile.  
  
"Do I really have to explain it to you?"  
  
"Yes."  
  
"Uh, maybe not right now, eh guys…"  
  
Harper was pointing down towards the end of the street, back the way they had come. The followers had… followed them. They were coming down the street fast, about twenty of them. An angry, ragged-looking mob of… humans, it seemed. They were not the same people that had been at the parts shop, not the ones that had been chasing them as they had been separated earlier. What were these people doing chasing them now?  
  
"Great."  
  
Tyr pulled out his gun and aimed at the first man.  
  
"Go!"  
  
"You trying to say you'll cover us?" Harper called over to him.  
  
"Just go!"  
  
Trance and Harper took off towards the ship. Tyr fired a shot at the mob to see if they would get the message. They didn't even slow down. Milon looked up at him from the ground.  
  
"They're after me," Milon said, "you should go."  
  
"And risk being shot in the back? Hardly."  
  
"Don't think they'll shoot at you. Not after they get what they want."  
  
That made sense. He really should go. Leave the kid behind, unarmed and defenceless, and just go. No problem. Right?  
  
"They want you alive?" he asked.  
  
"Yeah. Definitely."  
  
"Do you have any problems with leaving this planet?"  
  
"You mean... actually leave the planet, right? Not as in dying? Um... I guess not."  
  
"Then run."  
  
Milon looked at him with unbelief in his eyes.  
  
"You had better hurry up before I change my mind."  
  
Curse this newfound conscience. He had been on that ship for far too long. But it was not really like he was putting his life on the line for this stranger. He could take this rag-tag army, no doubt. If he had known what kind of people had been chasing them the second time around, there would have been no running in the first place.  
  
Milon gave him a last, doubting look, and then he was up and gone. Tyr fired off a rapid series of shots as he got up and started backing off. Some of the pursuers fell by his gun; a couple more stumbled over the bodies. Strangely enough, nobody seemed to be returning fire. Maybe they had no long-range weapons. All the better. Tyr threw a glance over his shoulder. Trance and Harper had already reached the ship, and Milon seemed to be well on his way too. He certainly was very fast, Tyr had to give him that. After firing off another couple of shots, and still getting no return fire, Tyr felt confident enough that he was not going to get shot in the back. Besides, the half or so that was left of the group were now close enough for Tyr to see what a pathetic bunch they really were. Armed with knives, and nothing more, blood smeared on their faces. Some kind of cult fanatics. He supposed he could have stayed and done away with the few remaining lunatics, but it was not really worth getting his hands dirty over. Waste of ammunition. He turned and ran for the ship.  
  
The second door of the airlock closed behind him with a hissing sound. He could hear an irregular, distant thumping as the followers pounded their fist against the outside door. No risk of them breaking in though. He walked over to the small "bridge" on the ship.  
  
Milon was sitting on the floor with Trance squatting by his side. Incredible how quickly the girl got attached to strangers. Harper was in the pilot's chair, making preparations for take-off. They were really going to bring this man, whom they knew nothing about, with them to the Andromeda. Well, if that was the case, Tyr had a couple of questions he wanted to ask first. He stepped over to Milon, grabbed the boy by the shoulder and hauled him to his feet.  
  
"Why were they chasing you? Who are you?"  
  
"Hey, put him down!"  
  
Trance was shouting and pulling at his arm, but Milon seemed calm enough, just looked into Tyr's eyes with a tired look on his face.  
  
"I don't know. I was just walking along when they jumped me and knocked me out. Then they tied me up in that room... I was mostly unconscious. Then you came along and saved me. End of story."  
  
"Do you really expect me to believe that?" Tyr sneered.  
  
"It's true..."  
  
The ghost of a smile swept across Milon's lips. True. Yeah, right. Tyr let him go, dropping him to the floor. He would find out what the boy's secret was sooner or later. He could wait. It was not like there was anywhere for him to go once on board the ship.  
  
"Okay people, get ready, we're clear for take-off! You better find something to hang onto 'coz I'm putting the pedal to the metal and getting the hell out of here!"  
  
What pedal? Tyr thought briefly, but he had long ago given up hope of making any sense of the engineer's ramblings. There always seemed to be so much talk and so little content in what he said.  
  
The lift-off was unnecessarily rough, the ship tearing itself free from the planet's gravity and shooting straight up like an arrow fired at the sun. They were really not in this much hurry, but let the boy have his fun. Tyr did not mind because he had jumped into the second chair as Harper gave his split second warning. Trance and Milon on the other hand ended up in quite a tangle, thrown into a corner by the G-force. They broke through the atmosphere, leaving the little blue planet behind them. The ship levelled out and Harper engaged the artificial gravity on board. All sense of speed and movement stopped, leaving the vessel's interior in a quiet calm. Looking over his shoulder, Tyr saw Milon scramble to his feet and walk up to the window, which now held quite an impressive view of the outer planets in the solar system.  
  
"Oh wow..." he breathed, sounding slightly panicky.  
  
"Are you by any chance new to the pleasures of interstellar travel?" Harper asked cheerily.  
  
"Aha, you could say that. So, this is the ship you were talking about?" he asked Tyr, "what was it, the Andromeda?"  
  
The comment made Trance giggle, Harper laugh out loud, and even Tyr couldn't hold back a smile.  
  
"No, this is a spaceship. The Andromeda is a starship. You will understand when you see it," Tyr said.  
  
"Which shouldn't be long now," Harper filled in, "We're nearly there. And if you think this trusty old girl is impressive, the Andromeda will take your breath away! It's simply one of the most beautiful spacecrafts you'll ever have the fortune to lay your eyes on, not to mention the A.I, which by the way yours truly stitched up an impressive, if I do say so myself, android body for and..."  
  
"Oh do shut up!" Tyr snapped.  
  
The failure of this mission was beginning to grate on his nerves. Not only were they returning to the ship without the equipment they had set out for, but they had also spent the last hour running instead of fighting. The frustration was rapidly becoming an unwelcome threat to his patience. And then there was Milon. It was so obvious that he was not telling them the whole story, and still neither Trance nor Harper seemed to find anything wrong with taking him back to the Andromeda. Not to mention the way Tyr had passed up his chance to leave him behind earlier. It was acting out of character. Tyr did not like it.  
  
"Wishing you'd left me back there?" Milon said suddenly, looking Tyr straight into the eyes, a tiny smile on his face.  
  
"It makes no difference. You are here now."  
  
"And you don't seem to happy about it."  
  
"Ah, no, that's the way he always is," Harper said, "As a matter of fact, I think he's having one of his good days. You can tell from the lack of scowling. Oh, I was wrong, there it is now."  
  
Tyr glared at him. He was sick of working with such children. All he wanted now was to get back to the Andromeda and go a round or fifty with the punching bag in the gym. That would vent some of this... annoyance he was feeling.  
  
"Ah! There she is now. Would you look at that, home sweet home!"  
  
The majestic silvery shape of the ship appeared from behind a planet. The sun of the system bounced its golden rays off the metal hull, making it glint like a small star.  
  
"Alright... I do see what you mean now," Milon smiled, "That is nice, isn't it."  
  
"Nice?" Harper started, but Tyr cut him off before the onslaught of adjectives that was sure to follow:  
  
"It is a high guard ship that travels all over the galaxy. There may be some time before we return to Earth. Maybe never. Are you sure you have not changed your mind?"  
  
"It's a little late for that now, isn't it? Besides, I like travelling."  
  
There was that secretive smile again. He almost reminded Tyr a little of the way Trance would smile, avoiding to answer any questions about her origins. Great, that's just what they needed on board that ship, another indeterminate factor. This one was not going to get away with it though, Tyr intended to see to that.  
  
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	2. The Hitchhiker's guide to the Andromeda

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Interlude. Kind of.  
  
Yeah, it had gone fast alright. So fast that his brain must have become twisted. Cameras he had thought? There were no cameras with him this time. That was all over. He had come here on his own, nobody knew where he was, and nobody was going to pull him out. And now Earth was just a dot on a map, even the Sun just a pinprick of white amongst a million billion others. So what? Good fucking riddance to it. Good riddance to them all. This was freedom. He could do whatever he wanted. Come to think of it, he was well overdue some fun.  
  
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Chapter Two: The Hitchhikers guide to the Andromeda  
  
Dylan had taken the whole episode with his usual calm and composure. He had not even got annoyed at the fact they came back without the things they went for in the first place. When Tyr walked onto the bridge, followed by the other three, he looked up. When he saw Milon, he just stood there, waiting placidly for someone to explain this new presence. Before Tyr had the chance to say anything, Harper came out with:  
  
"Yeah, well, he kinda followed us home. Can we keep him?"  
  
"I think he might be in need of medical attention," Trance said.  
  
Dylan ignored their comments and walked up to Milon, studying him.  
  
"I am Captain Dylan Hunt of the Commonwealth, welcome on board the Andromeda Ascendant."  
  
"Hi. I'm Milon. And thanks…"  
  
Milon shook his hand, but Tyr could see that the introduction had not made Dylan any wiser.  
  
"Listen, I don't want to be in the way or anything," Milon continued, "You can just drop me off on the next planet you're going to…"  
  
"Well," Dylan said with a polite yet slightly bemused smile, "contrary to popular belief, we don't actually make a habit of picking up intergalactic hitch-hikers."  
  
"But because you're such a terrific bloke, you'll make an exception in my case?" Milon said.  
  
"May I ask what brings you to my ship in the first place?"  
  
"Well, your man there pretty much saved my life," Milon nodded at Tyr, "And then there was a lot of running, and I seem to have ended up here."  
  
"Again, not an entirely common turn of events…"  
  
Dylan gave Tyr a surprised look.  
  
"I found him in chains in an old warehouse," Tyr said, "there seemed to be nothing to gain from leaving him there to die."  
  
"So you brought him here?"  
  
"Trance seems to have some interest in his state of health."  
  
Tyr was speaking in his usual bored-to-tears voice, letting Dylan know that he really could not care less about what happened to the boy. He was clearly not a threat to security, and thus outside Tyr's interest. Yep.  
  
"So, you are human, I take it?"  
  
"Why do people keep asking me that?" Milon laughed, then looked at Trance, "Oh, yeah. Right."  
  
"And why were you being kept prisoner?"  
  
"Beats me. I was just walking along, minding my own business, and… they knocked me out. I don't even know who they were…"  
  
Milon put his hand over his eyes again and reeled slightly. Trance was there in a second, taking his arm.  
  
"Can I take him to medical now?" she asked Dylan.  
  
"Of course. We can talk more later."  
  
Trance had then led Milon off the bridge and Tyr had followed her out before Dylan had a chance to drag him into a detailed explanation of his actions.  
  
Now their guest was sleeping in one of the empty quarters, and Tyr was doing his bit with the punching bag at last. The captain had not got any useful information out of him. He had just not asked the right questions. Tyr on the other hand had a couple of questions of his own to ask when the boy woke up.  
  
He had gone down to the sick bay and talked to Trance. She had not really wanted to go into details about the readings she had taken, yet another reason for Tyr to feel that there was definitely something more to Milon than met the eye. He was human anyway, that much was true. Not injured but suffering from exhaustion. Like he had not eaten or slept in days. The blood on his body had not matched his own, but it too had been human. For now, that was all the knowledge Tyr had of the man.  
  
After a couple of hours of vigorous exercise, the annoying frustration Tyr had felt from the Earth experience was beginning to let up. It was not like he had failed. The spare parts supplier had been dead when they got there. Then the enemy had attacked; he had surveyed the situation and decided to do the smart thing, not risking his own life or the other's. Done the right thing. No reason to feel discontented.  
  
After showering and changing, Tyr made his way to the observation deck. For a bit of peace and quiet, there was no place like this room. The huge window opening up on the vast, starstudded infinity. He knew that Trance was still down in medical. Dylan and Beka were with Rommie on the bridge making plans for their next destination. Harper was… who cares? Rooting around somewhere, tinkering with his little toys. So Tyr would have the room all to himself, just the way he liked it. Only, when he the door slid open, he found that he had been wrong.  
  
Milon was standing at the window, looking out. Tyr walked up behind him, soundlessly. He took a moment to observe him in the knowledge that his own presence was still unknown. For a second Tyr thought that they boy almost seemed to have a halo around his head, but it was just his white hair that caught the light. He took a couple of steps closer, carefully. He wanted to catch him off guard.  
  
"It's amazing… I've never seen anything like it."  
  
Milon was not talking to himself, he was clearly speaking to Tyr, but how had he known that he was there? Tyr knew for a fact that he had not betrayed his presence by any sound, scent or other sensory means. He had even made sure Milon could not see his reflection in the glass. Milon turned around and looked at him.  
  
"Trying to sneak up on me?" he smiled.  
  
"Hardly," Tyr lied.  
  
"So, you think your captain is going to let me stay?"  
  
"It seems that way."  
  
"Cool."  
  
The boy was looking at him inquisitively, still with a small smile.  
  
"Now, the time has come for you to start giving me some answers," Tyr said.  
  
"Oh yeah?"  
  
"Those were humans who chased you. I saw the inside of that warehouse; I saw the blood, the symbols. It was clearly some kind of religious ceremony. What I want to know is were you to be a sacrifice to some kind of deity, or was it you who was the subject of the worship?"  
  
"A little bit of both, I think."  
  
"And would you care to explain what would lead anybody to want to see you as some kind of religious icon?"  
  
"You know, that's a very good question," Milon said.  
  
Tyr had had just about enough of his evasive answers. What this young man needed was to be shown his place. Tyr leaned into his space and riveted his eyes on him.  
  
"Listen to me boy: I might have chosen to let you live once, but trust me, that mistake can easily be remedied if you do not stop playing games and start telling me the truth!"  
  
Milon just met his gaze with undaunted calm. Was it really just ignorance that led to this fearlessness?  
  
"I haven't lied to you. What is it you wanna know?"  
  
Still with the smile.  
  
"Where do you come from?"  
  
"Earth. We've been over this."  
  
"Where on Earth?"  
  
"You know, where you found me."  
  
"You have lived all your life in that one room?"  
  
"No! I've been… all over the place."  
  
Tyr was getting exasperated. He should just tell Dylan that Milon's refusal to co-operate was a security hazard and have him thrown in the brig until he was ready to make some sense. But then the blame would be on Tyr, for having brought him on board in the first place, potentially putting the crew at risk. Instead he asked:  
  
"What is your age?"  
  
"Almost twenty-seven. You?"  
  
"So, you are seriously trying to tell me that you have lived on Earth for twenty-seven years, yet you have never before seen a spaceship, you do not know what a Nitzschean is and you do not know the reason for why those people were chasing you?"  
  
Tyr had raised his voice now, thundering down at the shorter man. Still, he did not get a hint of intimidation for his efforts.  
  
"Yep. Look, Tyr, no reason to get so angry. I'll explain things… I just need to sort some stuff out in my own head first. It's been a pretty… overwhelming day. Just trust me when I say I don't have any hidden agenda or anything like that. I just… want to get away."  
  
The façade of togetherness seemed to be cracking somewhat. The only thing was that now Milon was talking to Tyr as if they knew each other. Tyr found that approach somehow unsettling.  
  
"Oh make no mistake; I do not trust you," he said.  
  
Milon looked up, met his eyes again. He looked tired but sincere.  
  
"Of course you don't. I don't expect you to. But you probably saved my life so maybe you'll forgive me if I'm a bit too trusting?"  
  
Tyr frowned. This was rapidly developing into a very strange conversation. To make it worse, Milon continued:  
  
"You know, when you do that angry thing, you remind me so much of somebody."  
  
"Oh really. And who might that be?"  
  
"My best friend."  
  
He turned away, looking out at the sparkling swirls of the galaxy. Tyr supposed he could have said something about being very careful of confusing the two, but all of a sudden it did not seem so important to intimidate him. He looked quite vulnerable, but again, Tyr had a feeling that it was very much a false image, even if it might not be deliberately put on.  
  
Suddenly, the hologrammatical representation of Andromeda flickered to life next to Tyr.  
  
"So, this is our guest? Milon, isn't it?"  
  
Milon turned to look at her. Then, without warning, he reached out and put his hand through the image. The hologram flickered, lines running through it before stabilising again.  
  
"Do you mind?" Rommie's voice came over the transmission.  
  
"What's this?" Milon asked.  
  
"It's the ship's AI"  
  
"Really? You're a computer?"  
  
"You sound surprised."  
  
"Maybe that's because I am..."  
  
"If you feel better now, maybe you would like to meet the rest of the crew? Tyr, will you show him the way?"  
  
Rommie did not wait for a response, and the hologram disappeared. Her voice had sounded slightly... strained. Short. Maybe she did not like having strangers touching her any more than a solid human would. Or maybe it was something else.  
  
Tyr led the way through the corridors to the messhall. It was amazing how fast Dylan seemed to have come to accept Milon on board. There was none of the usual formalities from the captain's side. None of the customary guest treatment. Oh no, not this time. They had only just picked this total stranger up off a planet and it was already 'why don't you come down and have dinner with us?'. Fools. Still, Tyr supposed there was no real harm in it. The others might be off their guard, but as long as Tyr was there to keep an eye on him, Milon would not get a chance to take advantage of their trust.  
  
"Listen, there are no... surprises I should know about, is there?" Milon said suddenly.  
  
"What do you mean?"  
  
"I mean, the rest of the crew. There's no... like aliens with loads of heads or anything like that, is there? I mean, not that I'm prejudiced in any way, I'd just... like to know. So I'm prepared, y'know? Wouldn't want to get on anybody's bad side by staring..."  
  
He was chattering away in a light tone, keeping even steps with Tyr as they walked down the ramp towards the lift. Because Milon's own clothes had been so torn, Harper had lent him one of his T-shirts and a pair of trousers, which were a little bit short in the legs but otherwise seemed to fit. Actually, the two Earthlings had a few things in common, Tyr thought, the incessant talking the most prominent of them, and the most annoying.  
  
"We are here. Go in."  
  
The door slid silently aside and they stepped into the room. The others were already there, sitting around the big table, talking. As Tyr and Milon stepped in, the android that was Rommie's solid form came up to them.  
  
"We meet again," she said to Milon, "I trust you won't try and put your hand through me this time?"  
  
"Nah, you look solid enough. Sorry 'bout that."  
  
"What's this? Has our guest been getting frisky with you already?"  
  
It was Beka. Smiling, she walked up to Milon and put her hand out.  
  
"Hello. I'm Beka Valentine, captain of the Maru."  
  
"The what now?"  
  
"The ship you came here on..."  
  
She was still smiling, but it was a smile that said she did not really know what to think.  
  
"Oh, yeah. Nice to meet you."  
  
They shook hands, and were just about to sit down at the table when the ship was suddenly rocked by an external explosion.  
  
"We're being attacked by an unidentified vessel!" Rommie called out, then the alarm went off.  
  
"To the bridge!"  
  
Dylan, Beka and Rommie were out the door in two seconds.  
  
"Harper, report to engineering!" the disembodied voice of the computer said.  
  
"Oh, this can't be good..." Harper muttered as he rushed past Tyr and out the door.  
  
No, it could not. What more, it seemed to be a bit too much of a coincidence. This was, after all, not a part of the galaxy where you would often come across 'unidentified' spaceships. If you were attacked around here, you could usually be fairly certain it was either hostile Nitzscheans or possibly Magog. Not this time. So how come Tyr was not really surprised?  
  
"Let me guess, you have no idea either who our attackers might be?" he said to Milon.  
  
"No! Of course not... how would I know?"  
  
He was looking at Tyr, wide-eyed. Another explosion resounded through the ship, causing the floor beneath them to shake violently and the lights to flicker off and on a couple of times before they fizzled out completely, leaving them in darkness. It only lasted a few seconds and then the emergency generator kicked in, filling the room with its dirty yellow glow. Tyr reached out and grabbed Milon again, this time by the throat. He slammed him up against the wall, leaving Milon's feet dangling several inches short of the ground.  
  
"If I find out that you have been lying to me..." he growled, "If we are being attacked because of you..."  
  
"It's nothing to do with me, I swear!"  
  
Milon looked afraid now, at last, as he struggled to free himself from Tyr's iron grip.  
  
"How do you know it is not?"  
  
Milon just shook his head, hopelessly.  
  
"Tyr, what are you doing? They need you on the bridge!"  
  
There was Trance again, tugging at his arm. Well, she was right. He could question Milon later. If they survived this. Once again, he dropped him and decided to deal with him later. Right now, there were more important things to worry about.  
  
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	3. Like a hole in the head

A/N: Right, on to chapter 3. You might notice that the style has changed a bit, but I did that on purpose (no, really!) because it's supposed to be Harper's point of view, so I thought I'd write it more like I imagine he would think.  
  
Thanks a lot to those of you who reviewed, I appreciate it. Keep 'em coming!  
  
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Interlude again.  
  
As they say: the fun just kept on leaving. Just as things had started to look up, he found himself in the middle of an emergency. And that big, black guy seemed to be convinced that it was all his fault. Maybe he was right. Trouble had been known to follow him around.  
  
Things were crashing down all over the place. Sparks flying from computer consoles. People shouting. It looked like there was a good chance that they might all die. Well, was death not what he had wanted only a couple of weeks ago? Mental note: be more careful what you wish for in the future.  
  
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Chapter Three: Like a hole in the head.  
  
Ok, so they won the fight. In the end. Shot the bastards down good, like a big firework, with a few well-aimed missiles. Hooray for them.  
  
Harper was exhausted. He had spent the last hour bouncing around the engine room like a rubber ball welding circuits that kept shorting out just as soon as he was done. But it had paid off. Eventually he headed to the bridge to see what the reason was for the recent overtaxing of his genius.  
  
"So, to who do we own the honour of having to spend a small fortune on spare parts this time?" he asked Dylan.  
  
"We don't know who they were. The analysis of the wreckage didn't show up much. I think they must have come from Earth though."  
  
Dylan was giving New Guy a strange look. Tyr looked like he was chewing a wasp. So, guess they weren't too happy about this. Bit of a shame if it should turn out the man was some kind of traitor. Or spy. It would've been cool to have someone else from Earth to talk to. And the guy seemed friendly enough. A little strange, but friendly.  
  
They set course for a small planet where they could get the stuff needed for the repairs. Nothing too critical had been broken that Harper wasn't able to fix. Yeah, like there was anything aboard this whole glorious ship that he wasn't able to fix, given time and the proper tools.  
  
While he completed some repairs on the bridge, he couldn't help but listen in on Dylan's conversation with the weird white one. Well, interrogation was maybe a more suitable phrase.  
  
"And you say that you have no idea who these attackers were? Although everything points at them following us from the planet, just after we picked you up?"  
  
The captain kept his calm, but he sounded doubtful.  
  
"Look… I don't know who they are. I suppose it could have been the same people as the ones who kidnapped me, but that still doesn't mean that I know what they want with me!"  
  
Dude sure sounded desperate. Who wouldn't with Tyr literally breathing down your neck like that? Sheesh, Harper was glad he wasn't in that guy's shoes. Actually, his shoes were weird too. Runners, pretty clean ones. Where on Earth would you get those? Well, the thing was; you wouldn't. Not anymore.  
  
A couple of hours later, Harper felt that he'd put in more than a good day's work. Maybe it was time to do the proper meet and greet thing. There were lots of things he wanted to ask Milon, and who knew, with his winning personality Harper might just be the man to get some answers where the others had failed. Said and done, he dug deep in his secret stash of alcoholic beverages and eventually decided that parting with a beer might be worth it.  
  
Milon looked surprised to see him as he opened the door.  
  
"Greetings!" Harper said, handing him the bottle, "This is what we here on board the good ship Andromeda like to call a quarter-warming gift. It might not be up to old Earth standards, but it beats the hell out of the urine recyke you had earlier..." Harper laughed at Milon's shocked look, "I'm kidding! I'm kidding!"  
  
"Oh. Ok then. Thanks."  
  
He took the bottle and twisted the cap off. Tasted the stuff without hesitation. Anybody who accepts a beer from someone they don't even know can't be all that sneaky, can they?  
  
"I don't know if we were even properly introduced. I'm Seamus Harper, engineer and all-round god of all things tech. If there's anything you need fixing, well, get in line, 'coz there's already a thousand and one things that fight amongst themselves as to which one gets to fill my busy day and… well, even a god can only be in one place at the time. Actually… that might not be true for those all-seeing, all hearing types, but I am after all only one man on a mission to whip this ship back into the perfection that is her true state of being."  
  
"Should I make with the traditional 'Are you human' comment then?"  
  
"No. I mean yes, I am. Aside from the god bit, that was kinda an in joke between… myself."  
  
"Yeah, I see what you're doing there. If you don't mind me asking, what's that on your neck?"  
  
"It's a bio-port. Nifty little gadget that allows me to jack straight into the computer's mainframe. Very handy for the old software maintenance."  
  
"I'll bet."  
  
"You sound like you're English?" Harper said casually, dropping down on the sofa, "Are you?"  
  
"Yeah, sure."  
  
"Cool. Whereabouts?"  
  
"Um... London. Around there."  
  
See! A kind word and gratuitous alcohol go down so much better than threats and shouting with us Earth people, Harper thought. In five minutes he knew more about this odd white haired guy than Tyr and Dylan's combined efforts had managed to squeeze out of him since he got here. Hah!  
  
"But you weren't a slave, obviously," Harper continued light-heartedly.  
  
The smile faded a little on Milon's face, but he still answered:  
  
"Well, I guess that's a question of definition, isn't it?"  
  
"You don't have a mark..."  
  
"Nope."  
  
Milon sat down at the other end of the sofa and absentmindedly swished the beer around in his bottle. Ok, so maybe that was all Harper would get out of him right now. He had no more than finished the thought when Milon said:  
  
"You wanna hear a secret?"  
  
"Uh, yeah, sure!"  
  
"Promise not to tell, but I've one of those bio-ports as well. Not a big fancy one like yours or anything, but yeah..."  
  
"What? Where?"  
  
"Here."  
  
Milon tapped a finger against the back of his head, just where it joined the neck. What an odd place to put it, Harper though.  
  
"Can I see?"  
  
Milon bowed his head and allowed Harper to take a closer look. He couldn't see anything, no metal, just skin. As if Milon had guessed his thoughts, he said:  
  
"You can't really see it, it's kinda beneath the skin. And I guess the hair is in the way."  
  
Curious now, Harper put his hand on Milon's neck. And there was something there, in the little hollow just underneath the skull, he could feel a small, hard ring of metal. A bio-port with no external components, he'd never seen anything like it.  
  
"Feel it?"  
  
"Yeah! Hey, that thing isn't wired straight into your cortex, is it?"  
  
"Think so."  
  
"What, with no buffers, no nothing? How dangerous is that! Where the hell did you get this?"  
  
Milon sat back again, rubbing the back of his head.  
  
"Not sure. I was too young to remember..."  
  
"You saying they put a bio-port on you when you were a baby? I'm sorry, but that's just sick!"  
  
Milon laughed at him. Not maliciously at all, but like he was thinking that if Harper thought that was sick, he should only know... It was making Harper feel strange. Like maybe he wasn't the only one who the Universe had singled out for its personal vendetta.  
  
"Yeah, well. I never really use it anyway..." Milon said.  
  
"But you'd miss it if it was gone?"  
  
"Yeah, like a hole in the head."  
  
Now Harper laughed too. Well, it was good to see that there was somebody else with a sense of humour on board.  
  
"Did you really build that android yourself?" Milon asked suddenly.  
  
"Sure did. My pride and joy she is, Rommie."  
  
"But... she's like a human. I mean... she has a personality right?"  
  
"Yeah. The AI is her personality; I just made the body. And what a body... why?"  
  
"So, she is an artificial intelligence in an artificial body then. Does she still have... y'know feelings?"  
  
"Yeah, why... oh! You fancy her, do you?" Harper grinned.  
  
"No! I mean, she's nice and all, but... that wasn't why I asked. I was just wondering..."  
  
Milon got up and started looking around, like he felt lost, or trapped. When hologram Rommie appeared next to him he looked so startled that Harper couldn't help thinking that if his hair hadn't already been white, it might very well have turned now.  
  
"Wondering what?" Rommie asked.  
  
"Jeez, scare the hell out of me why don't ya? So, they really programmed you for eavesdropping?"  
  
"Monitoring. It's called security."  
  
"Is that right?"  
  
Still, Milon didn't look too bothered. Harper had a feeling that he wasn't really working very hard to hide anything; it was more that he wouldn't tell them just because they asked. Playing with them. 'Them' mostly being Dylan and Tyr. Some nerve he had. Yeah, Harper could definitely get to like this guy.  
  
"Well," Rommie said, somewhat snottily, "if you have any more questions about me in the future, maybe you could ask me directly?"  
  
"Like you don't talk about me behind my back? Anyway, never mind, it doesn't matter."  
  
"For your information, I do have feelings," she said before flickering out without waiting for a reply.  
  
"I guess I put my foot in it there, eh?" Milon smiled, "Hey, this is actually not bad!"  
  
He held up the beer bottle, reading the label. Since the label was in a non-terrestrial language, Harper guessed it left him none the wiser. At least the man had the taste to appreciate life's tiny pleasures.  
  
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	4. Wanna take this outside?

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And again.  
  
Four days on the ship. You'd think it would get old fast, being stuck in space with five people you didn't know. But it was nice. Nice that they didn't know him. Didn't idolise him or feel sorry for him or tried to kill him. He was used to those three being his only options. In a few more days they would land on some planet. He could leave then, would probably be asked to leave. Hopefully the new world would be an interesting place. He'd so had it with the old one.  
  
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Chapter Four: Wanna take this outside?  
  
"You look like you're having fun."  
  
Tyr did not miss a single beat on the punching bag; he was not taken by surprise by the voice, he had known he was being watched. Tyr might not be able to sneak up on Milon but the opposite was also true. The difference was Milon had not been trying.  
  
"Fun has nothing to do with it," he said, finishing off with a devastating left hook, which nearly took the bag off the chain.  
  
"No, I guess the bag doesn't really put up much of a fight, does it?"  
  
Tyr turned around and looked at Milon. Over the past four days he had somewhat reluctantly started to give in to the idea that maybe the boy was not a security hazard after all. Not that Tyr was getting complacent, he still far from trusted him, but at the moment there seemed to be no real reason to treat him like the enemy. Besides, there was something about him, some... quality that seemed to make him much less of an annoyance to Tyr's personality than perhaps he should have been.  
  
"Do you propose that I should use something else?" he said, taking a few long steps towards Milon.  
  
"Oh, I'm just saying you might be good at kicking the shite out of stationary objects, but how are you with a living target?"  
  
Was he really doing what Tyr thought he was? Tyr folded his arms across his chest and just looked at him for a moment. The boy sure did not look like a fighter. He was too slim. Not skinny, but certainly not built to measure his strength against Tyr.  
  
"Muscles aren't everything, y'know," Milon said, "How are you going to hit something if you can't... well, hit it?"  
  
"You mean to lecture me on combat?"  
  
Milon chuckled quietly.  
  
"No, of course not. I just wondered if you wanted a sparring partner."  
  
"You?"  
  
"Yeah, me! What's wrong, don't think you can take me?"  
  
Try laughed out loud. Milon just smiled at him. Well, at least the boy had guts, Tyr couldn't deny that.  
  
"Come on then."  
  
Tyr motioned for him to step into the room. He intended to make this quick, if maybe not entirely painless. Throwing the boy to the floor should be adequate for taking that smile off his face. Tyr reached out to grab a hold of Milon's arm, but to his surprise Milon stepped back so quickly that for a split second Tyr almost felt out of balance. He had not expected him to move so fast.  
  
"Thought I was just joking around?" Milon asked.  
  
Tyr did not answer. This was for training, not for talking. He attacked again, this time making more than a half-hearted attempt at catching Milon, but again, he somehow managed to side step at the last minute. Hmm, could it be that Tyr had underestimated him?  
  
"Ah, come on!" Milon said, "If you're not even gonna try, I'll find something else to do."  
  
Mocking him now. Tyr could feel the anger starting to well up inside him. He had a feeling that was what Milon wanted, for him to lose control. That was not going to happen.  
  
"Do not test me boy."  
  
Tyr decided that it was time to lose the gloves and threw a well- aimed punch straight at Milon's face. Milon blocked it, hitting Tyr's arm sideways, throwing his aim off. Tyr immediately followed the first punch up with a rapid series of others. All which were blocked, or dodged. There was no way in the universe that a pure, unenhanced human could have reflexes that quick. Tyr was working hard to get a punch through, but Milon was too fast, even for him. He moved like an acrobat or something, avoiding every punch aimed towards him and making it look easy. Then Tyr felt a sting across his face. Milon had hit him. Not hard, compared to what Tyr was used to in battle it was nothing. It had not even drawn blood, but that was not the point. Strength was not everything. Just the fact that he had managed to touch him was enough. He could have been holding a knife.  
  
"Impressive," Tyr admitted, "Do you still maintain that you are only human?"  
  
"Yeah. More or less…"  
  
Milon was still smiling; he was clearly enjoying this. And maybe Tyr was too. He could not pretend that he was not intrigued by what was slowly starting to be revealed to him.  
  
"Where did you learn to fight like that?"  
  
"Well… you remember I said that you remind me of someone? He taught me some. The rest, I kinda just picked up…"  
  
Tyr just nodded slowly.  
  
"So, what? You giving up already?" Milon said.  
  
"I have not even started."  
  
They fought for a while in silence, neither of them managing to do any damage to their opponent. Tyr was beginning to get slightly frustrated. Finally, he launched his fist in a devastating blow to Milon's face. If it had connected, he might very well have given the boy a concussion. But again, Milon pulled back, clearing Tyr's fist by a mere inch. The fist. Not the bone blades, which now were fully extended. Milon let out a short cry of pain and recoiled. Tyr could see a thin but deep-looking gash across his left cheek. Oh, did he cut his pretty face? And it looked like it just might leave a scar as well. What a shame... Heh. Tyr could not help feeling a dark sense of pleasure at the sight of blood across pale skin. He was not smiling now, was he? No, he was stopping and looking at Tyr with surprise and curiosity.  
  
"Hey, what's that? I thought this was supposed to be an unarmed thing?"  
  
"Never suppose anything."  
  
"What are those anyway?"  
  
Milon walked up to him without hesitation and took a hold of his arm. Tyr was so taken aback by the reaction that he just stood there, letting the boy inspect his bone blades.  
  
"They're not… part of your body?"  
  
"Yes."  
  
"Cool," Milon ran a finger along one of the spikes, "Have you any feeling in them?"  
  
"Not as such…"  
  
Tyr pushed the boy away. The uninvited intimacy of his actions was unsettling. It was like the fearless curiosity of a child, and coupled with the fact that he had proved himself a capable fighter, it made for an unpredictable personality.  
  
"You wanna go again?"  
  
Milon stepped back and looked at Tyr, his head slightly tilted. Tyr glared back at him. Something was not right. At fist Tyr could not put his finger on it, but there was definitely something about Milon that was… wrong. Then it came to him in a flash of disbelief. He walked up to Milon, who actually backed off, letting himself get cornered. He looked up at Tyr with a question in his eyes.  
  
"Your face…"  
  
Tyr lifted his hand and ran a finger over the skin on Milon's left cheek. A flash of nervous confusion shot through the boy's eyes. Then he seemed to understand and relaxed.  
  
"…you were cut."  
  
The pale skin on Milon's left cheek was smooth and unbroken.  
  
"What? You must've imagined it."  
  
Milon smiled at him again. He was playing with him. That was it. Tyr pushed him into the wall, putting his arm across his throat, the bone blades resting against the skin.  
  
"Now you will listen to me boy. I know what I saw, and you are going to tell me what you are."  
  
"Maybe I don't want to?" Milon said defiantly.  
  
"What makes you think that I will give you a choice?"  
  
Tyr pushed his arm forward slightly, the bone blades poking Milon's throat. Then suddenly there was a flash of light, bright as a star, and Tyr was blinded. He could not see a thing, only feel himself being pushed backwards, and then his legs were knocked from under him. A weight on his chest, something cold against his neck. His eyes were running, but at least his sight was starting to return gradually. Through a blizzard of black and white spots, he could make out Milon's shape, sitting on him, holding what could only be a knife to his throat.  
  
"No, you listen!" Milon hissed, "Being threatened by some huge fucking alien with spikes coming out of his arms is not exactly on my list of favourite things!"  
  
Tyr blinked, trying to clear his vision. He could see now. Could see the anger blazing in the earlier so calm, green eyes. All the softness was gone from the boy's face, now he looked like he was quite capable of slitting Tyr's throat. Unpredictable indeed. And yes, Tyr was impressed.  
  
"Calm down boy…"  
  
"And you can stop calling me that as well, while you're at it!"  
  
"Yes… remove the knife, Milon."  
  
"Well, what's the magic word?"  
  
What was he talking about? Tyr did not know of a magic word. He wanted to make a move, throw Milon off him and pin him down, but after having got a demonstration of how quick the boy's reflexes were, and still not knowing if he was actually prepared to use his weapon, Tyr felt it wiser to play along. For now.  
  
"What magic word is that?"  
  
Tyr looked into his eyes. Milon was staring back at him with ice cold hostility. Then suddenly the anger just drained from his face. That easygoing smile broke through again, like the sun through stormclouds.  
  
"Please. The magic word is 'please'."  
  
"I see. Remove the knife… please."  
  
"You've got it."  
  
Milon took away the knife –where had he got it in the first place?- and stood up. He put his hand out to Tyr who was still lying on the floor. Tyr ignored the offered help and got to his feet.  
  
"Look Tyr, I'm not your enemy and I don't wanna fight with you. You helped me out when I was in a hell of a squeeze and I'm grateful for that. But I'm getting sick of the threats and the suspicion and your whole attitude. I realise you have to be careful and probably have the ship's security at heart, but this is just not the way to do it."  
  
Milon stuck the knife back in a sheath on his ankle. Tyr crossed his arms, studying him.  
  
"Would you rather I held a gun to your head?"  
  
"I would rather you asked nicely."  
  
"Very well. Where did that light come from?"  
  
"Me."  
  
"And what happened to the cut on you face?"  
  
"It healed."  
  
"So you did lie to me. You said you were human."  
  
"I am human! I just happen to have to have some… other stuff in me. It's nothing to worry about."  
  
"What 'other stuff' is that?" Tyr asked calmly.  
  
"Well… have you heard of Elementals?"  
  
"No."  
  
"Years and years ago these… beings came to Earth. Interbred with the humans. There's still some of their genes going round. That's where the power is. My… bioluminescence."  
  
"I have never heard of this before."  
  
"Nah, you wouldn't have."  
  
"So what are you?"  
  
"Well, some people call us Genies. Genetic Elementals is the scientific name for it…"  
  
"Is that why those humans were after you?"  
  
"Probably. Look, Tyr, you think you could just... keep this to yourself? I really don't want to go through the whole twenty questions thing with Dylan... we'll be getting to that planet in a few days right? I'll be out of your hair then, so..."  
  
Milon was looking up at Tyr a bit like a child who was asking his father for something he did not really think that he was going to get. For some reason Tyr felt uncharacteristically inclined to prove him wrong. But Tyr was too experienced in diplomatic tactics not to suspect that he was being manipulated. Still, maybe the situation could be used to his advantage.  
  
"Are you asking me to keep this important piece of information from my captain?" he asked, keeping a straight face.  
  
"Well... yeah."  
  
"And what reason would I have for doing that?"  
  
"It always has to be something in it for you, doesn't it?"  
  
Tyr just looked at him with raised eyebrows. Eventually the silence seemed to get too much for the boy. Tyr could hear the reluctance in his voice as he shrugged his shoulders and said:  
  
"Well, what you want then?"  
  
"You say you produced that light with your own body?"  
  
"Yeah…"  
  
"Show me."  
  
Milon hesitated for a while. He kept looking at Tyr, like he was trying to figure him out. He really did not seem to want to reveal more than he had to. Tactically, it was the right decision. Tyr had thought that Milon had just been young and overconfident, but it had turned out that he was actually a very skilled fighter. He had also thought that he was slightly naive, but now he seemed to be very careful. All these things made Tyr increasingly pleased with the fact that he had not left the boy to die down on Earth.  
  
"Not here," Milon said finally, "Plus, you've seen it once. Didn't seem to like it…"  
  
"You blinded me. Do you mean to tell me that you cannot control the strength of the light? I would not believe that."  
  
"Why?"  
  
"Because it is unlikely that the only brightness you were able to generate would coincide perfectly with what it takes to blind somebody, yet leave no lasting damage to their eyesight."  
  
"Clever, aren't ya."  
  
"It is pure logic."  
  
"Yeah, I guess. Well, as it happens, you're right. I'll show you later."  
  
Milon smiled at him again, turned around and walked out before Tyr had time to argue.  
  
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	5. Perfect stranger

A/N: This chapter is just a short little information thing. Not very exciting maybe, but it kinda has to be done...  
  
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Interlude.  
  
He might have gone where his former employers couldn't reach him, but unfortunately it wasn't the same with the dreams. Here he was, having quite a lot of fun, seeing the stars and getting to know new people and aliens. And still he woke up shivering and crying, missing the darkness that had so nearly killed him. And missing… yes, missing his friend. Maybe that's why he'd told Tyr the truth. Because he really did remind him of Pitch. And he'd never get to see him again.  
  
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Chapter Five: Perfect stranger  
  
"Trance!"  
  
Tyr found her in Medical. Which was perfect.  
  
"Hi Tyr."  
  
She started fumbling with what she was holding. Trying to hide something.  
  
"I need information."  
  
"What kind of… information?"  
  
She looked nervous. That was good, it almost certainly meant she knew something. Although, nothing was ever completely certain about Trance.  
  
"Information about our… guest. You took tests when you brought him to medical on the first day, yes?"  
  
"Tests… yeah… bloodtype, levels, that sort of thing."  
  
"I want to see them."  
  
"No… they're not here. I… lost them."  
  
She smiled, trying to back off, still holding on to something behind her back. Tyr grabbed her arm and pulled it out. It was a couple of flexis, which Tyr snatched from her hand. She struggled briefly with him, but realised he was not going to give in so she just stood back with a frown and a pout.  
  
"These are it, are they not?"  
  
She did not answer, just gave him a sour look. Tyr took a closer look at the flexis. Unfortunately, they did not really tell him much. The levels looked normal. Further than that, Tyr's knowledge of medicine did not stretch.  
  
"Trance, I have reason to belive that Milon might be a danger to the whole crew. I really need you to tell me all you know about his… power."  
  
Trance's eyes went wide. She reached out for the flexis and Tyr handed them over.  
  
"I don't think he's dangerous," she said.  
  
"But you do not know for sure. How come he has kept secrets from us, if he has nothing to hide?"  
  
Trance gave him another annoyed look. Of course she would be annoyed, the exact same thing applied to her.  
  
"There could be many reasons."  
  
"Maybe, but I still need to know. I know he has power, he admitted it to me. He is not as innocent as he looks Trance. The fact is that we know nothing about him. He is a perfect stranger."  
  
"Yes," she smiled, "you're right there. He's perfect."  
  
"What is that supposed to mean?"  
  
"His genetical profile… is perfect. It's human genetical code, but it's flawless. There are none of the small inherent inperfections that everybody, including Nitzscheans, have."  
  
"Are you saying he is genetically engineered?"  
  
"Yes, but not the same way you are. Nitzscheans have refined their genetical inheritance over generations, but there is still room for improvement…"  
  
"But not with him?"  
  
Trance took another look at the thin, coloured sheets of plastic in her hand. She seemed to have resigned to the fact that Tyr would not leave before he had got the answers he came for.  
  
"If any improvements were made to his human genes, they wouldn't be human anymore. I'm guessing that's already happened to some of them. That's how he might have access to powers that humans normally don't possess. What were they anyway?"  
  
Tyr ignored her question and instead posed one of his own:  
  
"So what does that mean?"  
  
"This process would, if it was to happen naturally, take millenia. Maybe longer than the human race has been around."  
  
"So, you are saying that somebody altered his genetical code directly?"  
  
"I don't know. Maybe you're asking the wrong person?"  
  
Tyr nodded. He was not going to get anymore information out of her.  
  
Tyr made his way to the bridge. It was time to look at this from a different perspective. The official one. On his way he passed the machine shop where Harper was apparently showing off his technological expertise to Milon. The two humans seemed to get along well. Roaring laughter was echoing between the walls. Tyr frowned and stepped inside. He found Harper sitting on one of the workbenches, and Milon on a crate on the floor. Harper was laughing so hard it looked like he had problems breathing. Milon was laughing too, if not quite as hard.  
  
"Are you two intoxicated?" Tyr asked.  
  
"I wish," Milon said.  
  
Harper took a deep breath and collected himself.  
  
"Hey Tyr," he sniggered, "How long have you been standing there then?"  
  
"Not long. Why?"  
  
"No reason."  
  
Milon smiled up at Tyr from his place on the crate.  
  
"We were just talking about you…" he said.  
  
Harper clamped a hand over his mouth to stifle the laughter. So, it seemed like they were having some fun at Tyr's expense. No doubt Harper would love to hear all about how Tyr had been knocked down by somebody much smaller. Tyr must remember to have a little talk with the engineer later.  
  
When he arrived at the bridge, he found Dylan and Rommie in front of the computer screens. Rommie looked up as he entered the room, Dylan did not.  
  
"So, I see that you engaged in some training with our guest," she said with a smug little smile.  
  
Obviously her sensors had picked up the whole thing. Tyr just sneered at her.  
  
"There was a massive discharge of energy coming from the training room," she continued, "Some sort of explosion. We're looking into it now."  
  
"Explosion? Did you not see what happened?"  
  
"My sensors were temporarily disabled by the discharge. There does not appear to be any damaged caused."  
  
So, not even the A.I had the full story. The question was would it be tactically wise to tell them what he knew, or to keep the information to himself like Milon had asked? Tyr decided to stay silent. For now.  
  
"We will be arriving at our destination in 36 hours," Dylan said, "It is a small trading planet. Their should be no problems purchasing the equiment we need. I'm sending Harper and Trance, like last time. You can go with them if you want, although I can't see that it would be neccessary."  
  
Tyr nodded. Thirty-six hours, that was how long he had to get to the bottom of this mystery.  
  
"Have you found any new information on who our attackers might have been?" he asked.  
  
"No. The ship most certainly came from Earth. But the analysis of the wreckage found traces of chemicals that are not indigenous to the planet. It is a bit of a mystery, but nothing we have the time or resources to concentrate on right now."  
  
No. But next time they were almost being blown out of the sky by a vessel inferior in size, then it might be time to concentrate. Until then, it would seem that Tyr was on his own.  
  
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	6. Infinity to 1

A/N: Now, back to the actual story. This chapter might not exactly be the excitement-packed roller coaster of entertainment you people deserve, but hold on, things will start happening soon, I promise. Really. Until then, thanks for reading!  
  
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Interlude:  
  
Thirty-six hours the captain had said. That's how long he had left. Then it was time to leave again. No use getting too attached to any of these people. No use ever getting attached to anybody ever again, seeing how it always worked out.  
  
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Chapter Six: Infinity to 1  
  
Trance was standing at the big window on the observation deck. Waiting. She knew that eventually, Milon would come here. The breathtaking view of the stars was something that would always help to calm her down when she was feeling stressed or unhappy. Milon might be all smiles and jokes, but she could tell that was a façade. She hadn't wanted to put any pressure on him before he had settled in. That would just result in him putting up more of a protective wall. But the time was right now, soon. He would open up to her; he would see how much they had in common. Maybe he would even seek her out, if he felt the same kinship as she did.  
  
"Rommie, where's Milon?"  
  
"In his quarters."  
  
"Sleeping?"  
  
"No. It looks like he is getting ready to go out."  
  
"Thanks."  
  
She wouldn't have to wait much longer. Sometimes it was easy to predict what was going to happen. Not as mystical a talent as people might think. She just found people easy to read. What they were feeling, and what they were about to do.  
  
About fifteen minutes later, the door glided open silently and she heard soft footsteps approaching. She turned her back on the glittering space outside and looked at him.  
  
"Hi Milon."  
  
"Oh, hi…"  
  
Disappointment? Maybe he wanted to be alone. Or maybe he was still a bit uncomfortable with her alien appearance. Well, he could get used to that, right? She took a few steps towards him, smiling reassuringly.  
  
"Come with me, there's something I want to show you…"  
  
She reached out and took his hand. He gave her a sort of shy look, which she found absolutely adorable, but he didn't pull his hand free. She led him down the corridor to the conservatory. After the door shut behind them, she let him go and said:  
  
"Rommie, can we have some privacy please?"  
  
"Privacy mode engaged…"  
  
The computerised voice sounded a little suspicious. Maybe Rommie didn't like what she thought Trance was going to do. Or maybe she just didn't like being left out.  
  
"What are you up to?"  
  
Milon grinned at her. A cute, mischievous, but completely false grin. She just smiled back and walked a bit down the little path between the flowers. He would follow her. If nothing else then out of pure curiosity.  
  
"So, is this what you wanted to show me?"  
  
He was looking around, not as impressed as she thought he would have been. Earth didn't have many flowers these days. Then again, that was what they were here to talk about, wasn't it?  
  
"Yes. Have you ever seen such beautiful flowers?"  
  
"They're nice."  
  
He looked a little lost. And younger than his age, which she had learnt from Rommie, who had 'overheard' Tyr asking him.  
  
"Harper's clothes seem to fit you," she said, "And his personality."  
  
"What's that supposed to mean?"  
  
"I mean the way both of you use humour like some kind of defence."  
  
She walked up to him and looked into his eyes. She had never seen anyone who had eyes that pure green before. Not bright green but a nice, light colour.  
  
"Oh, that."  
  
He smiled again, but the smile didn't reach his eyes. She took both his hands in hers, her own skin so bright purple against his almost white. Turning his hands over, she noticed a pale, vertical scar on the inside of each of his wrists. A flash of pain went through her heart. That was not some kind of battle scars or anything that could have been caused by an accident. She ran her thumbs lightly across the scars, feeling a strange sadness in her heart. Milon pulled his hands back and crossed his arms across his chest defensively.  
  
"Milon…"  
  
"What? What do you want me to say? You weren't meant to see that."  
  
"Why not? Maybe I was. Maybe I can help you. Maybe fate brought you to us for a reason."  
  
"Fate? I don't believe in fate."  
  
"Do you believe in a perfect possible outcome to any situation?"  
  
"Not a big fan of perfection."  
  
He wouldn't meet her eyes, just looked past her at the flowers.  
  
"I am. And I know that somewhere, in some reality, every possible situation is played out, and somewhere there is a perfect future."  
  
He suddenly looked back at her. Then he nodded slowly, almost like he was thinking to himself.  
  
"Well, I can't really see how that helps. Besides, if you know about dimensions, I guess you know the odds for your 'perfect future' as well. You know how many dimensions there are?"  
  
"No."  
  
"Infinite. That's how many. So one to infinite, there's your odds."  
  
He sounded tired. Suddenly the pieces were starting to come together for Trance. The way Milon had insisted that he was from Earth, even through all the contradictions. Yes, she understood now and it was making her heart beat faster. It was an exhilarating experience, like she was in touch with the universe.  
  
"Milon... you're from Earth?"  
  
"Yeah."  
  
She stepped closer, until they were almost touching. Although she knew that nobody could be listening to them, not even Rommie, she still felt that she had to whisper.  
  
"But you're not of this world, are you? You're not from our reality..."  
  
"You figured it out. What you want, a medal?"  
  
It might be a sarcastic remark, but his voice was soft and a little sad. She could see hurt in him, something she knew he hadn't let any of the others see.  
  
"Why did you come here?"  
  
Milon stepped back and looked around again. Then he shrugged his shoulders and smiled. The mask was back on.  
  
"No reason. It's not like I have some evil plan or anything. I don't mean any harm; I'm just sightseeing, having a bit of fun. Sounds like someone you know?"  
  
If Trance could have blushed, she would have. She didn't answer. Milon said:  
  
"You're really trying to figure me out, aren't you? But are you prepared to tell me anything about yourself? I didn't think so."  
  
"Tyr came down to medical," she said, "He made me tell him about your test results..."  
  
Anything to avoid the subject.  
  
"Doesn't matter," Milon said.  
  
"He said you had admitted to having power. What did he mean by that?"  
  
"Why don't you ask him?"  
  
The answer, or lack of, stung her. How come he felt he could tell Tyr of all people, and not her?  
  
"No reason to get hurt," he said, "I kinda had to tell him."  
  
"I'm not hurt! Why would I be?"  
  
Trance laughed a little to make her point clear. She spun around and looked at the flowers, then picked a yellowing leaf off one of the plants. Maybe it needed a little more water?  
  
"You were, for some reason. That's it. Do you get it?"  
  
She dropped the leaf on the ground and turned around to look at him.  
  
"Get what?"  
  
"That's one of my... abilities. To know. I kinda thought you might have it too?"  
  
Oh. Oh! How could she have been so blind?  
  
"You're an empath?" she said.  
  
"Yep. Are you?"  
  
"Not really..."  
  
"You're uncomfortable. You really don't wanna tell me one little thing about yourself."  
  
"No... I much rather talk about you... you're much more... interesting..."  
  
"Yeah, right."  
  
There was so much she wanted to know. So much she wanted to ask.  
  
"Where you come from, what is it like?"  
  
"I don't know. Pretty bad, I guess, but then again, it's all relative, isn't it? Seems worse here, at least at home the war is over."  
  
"How did you get here?"  
  
"There are machines that can punch through the veil. I really needed to get away, so I just took off... didn't know where I'd end up. Turns out, it was here."  
  
There was that sadness again in his eyes. He was running from something. Something bad. She wished that he'd tell her, so she could comfort him. She leaned in closer. She really hadn't planned this, but she just went with the feeling. Who knows, maybe it would turn out... perfect.  
  
"Don't," he took a step back from her, turning his head away, "You're just feeling sorry for me."  
  
"I'm feeling... sympathy. It's different."  
  
"Nah, it's all the same. Besides..." a razor-thin, sarcastic smile swept across his lips, "I don't do relationships."  
  
For some reason she felt like crying. Not for the rejection, only for what she sensed had been the reason behind it.  
  
"But you used to?"  
  
His face went through a quick series of emotions, surprise, sadness, pain and settled for anger.  
  
"What is this? The third degree? Why don't you just leave me alone!"  
  
"Milon…"  
  
"No!"  
  
He pulled away from her touch, angrily. Turned around and started walking towards the exit. Of course the door was locked. She followed him, slower, seeing desperation and pain in his every movement. Milon reached the door and slammed his hand into it when it refused to open.  
  
"Milon, take it easy…"  
  
"Don't tell me to take it easy! You don't know me!"  
  
"That's true. But I would like to. If nothing else, then to be your friend."  
  
He let out an almost sobbing sigh and clamped his hand over his eyes. Then he looked at her again.  
  
"I'm sorry, Trance. I shouldn't have… got angry. Probably shouldn't have told you all this either…"  
  
"Yes. You did the right thing. I only wish you'd tell me… what it is you're fleeing from? Someone hurt you, didn't they?"  
  
"Yeah. No. Not like you mean. Just… open the door. Please."  
  
Trance didn't want to open the door. She wanted to keep him here, in the calm room with the beautiful flowers. Keep him to herself. But that was a selfish thought, and not something she had either the right or the opportunity to do. Instead she called out to the computer:  
  
"Rommie, unlock the door."  
  
"See you later…" Milon said.  
  
But she didn't think it sounded like he meant it.  
  
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	7. Lock, stock and one non-smoking gauss gu...

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A/N: Right, guess that last chapter wasn't all that riveting, but now we're starting to get to what I like to call 'the actual attempt at a plot'! So get with the reviewing! Please? Pretty please?  
  
A/N 2: I felt I should add some more to this chapter... if you don't want to read the whole lot again, the new bit starts after '...Morgan, and his ship..."  
  
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Interlude:  
  
The closer they got, the more it hurt. He'd wanted to get away from the people who knew him. The people who could take one look at him and know how far he was from getting over what had happened. What use was a happy face if everybody kept seeing through it? Now it seemed like this was turning into the same old thing. Trance had been nice to him. In another world maybe, another life, he wouldn't have been so cold with her, but he really didn't want anyone to feel sad for him. One set of sadness was enough. Better then to keep to the feelings of strength. Hardness. Hoping it might rub off on him.  
  
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Chapter Seven: Lock, stock and one non-smoking gauss gun  
  
It was late evening by the ship's clock when there was a knock at Tyr's door. Tyr put down his book and looked up.  
  
"Enter."  
  
The door slid open and Milon's white head became visible in the doorway.  
  
"Hey… can I come in?"  
  
He made a gesture that told Tyr he was not as composed as he would like Tyr to believe. So what was it he wanted?  
  
"If you must."  
  
Tyr closed the book, put it aside and followed Milon with his eyes as he walked into Tyr's quarters, looking around.  
  
"What do you want?" Tyr said.  
  
"Well, I told you I'd show you something… whoa, that's a lot of guns!"  
  
Milon stopped in front of the collection of firearms.  
  
"Do not touch anything."  
  
There was a warning edge to Tyr's voice, letting Milon know that he was being serious.  
  
"Relax! I won't break anything."  
  
In the few seconds it took him to say it, Tyr got up off his chair, took a step over to him and grabbed his arm before it could reach its target. He closed his fist around skin and bone, hard enough to leave a bruise.  
  
"I said do not touch anything! What is wrong with you boy?"  
  
"Ow! Let go!"  
  
Milon tried to pull his arm free, but without success.  
  
"What are you doing here?" Tyr asked, letting him go.  
  
"I dunno. I'm bored. Do you wanna see the light thing or not?"  
  
He walked away, over to the armchair where Tyr had been sitting and dropped down into it. Tyr scanned his collection quickly to see that no weapon was missing, and then he walked over and looked down at Milon.  
  
"Can you dim the lights?" Milon asked.  
  
"Rommie, lights at fifty percent."  
  
The room was shrouded in a soft half-light. It was of no inconvenience to Tyr; he had excellent vision even in weaker light than this. Of course that also meant that his eyes were more sensitive to bright light. He was fully aware of the fact that Milon could temporarily incapacitate him with a blinding flare. Somehow, he felt certain that it was not his intentions this time.  
  
As Tyr stood there, looking at Milon, he saw a faint shimmer on his face. Like light reflected off water. It grew in strength gradually, lightening Milon's already pale skin until it looked like it was no longer skin, but dimmed crystal with a pure, white light inside. Tyr could only sit down on the edge of the table and stare. The light kept growing stronger, illuminating the whole room with its misty glow. Just as it was starting to get a bit too bright for Tyr's comfort, Milon eased down on the light until it only remained as an afterglow on his skin.  
  
"There, happy now?"  
  
Milon smiled at him, the last of the shine lifting from his face.  
  
"Impressive…" Tyr said.  
  
He was being honest. It had been impressive.  
  
"Thanks! You're all flattery, aren't ya? Right, I've shown you… will you do something for me now?"  
  
Tyr crossed his arms.  
  
"What?"  
  
"Will you teach me how to use a gun? I've never really been a fan, but I figure that if I'm gonna be some kind of intergalactic explorer, I should prepare myself a bit."  
  
"You have never used a firearm?"  
  
"Well, not really used… and definitely not any like these! These are like Star Wars guns or something!"  
  
Tyr did not understand his reference, but he understood the essence of it. Still, he could not help but wonder why the boy kept seeking him out. Surely, if he wanted to learn how to handle a gun, there were people who were more… approachable than him.  
  
"Why me? Why not your new friend Harper?"  
  
"Well… you seem to know your stuff. Besides, I like hanging out around you."  
  
"Why is that?"  
  
Tyr asked the question with a frown. A fairly amused frown. Milon jumped up and walked over to the gun cabinet again. This time Tyr did not get up to prevent him from touching the weapons.  
  
"I dunno… maybe 'cause you really do remind me of a mate of mine. Your whole 'I'm so bad, nothing can touch me' attitude. Maybe that's like a challenge to me. And you're strong, mentally I mean. Maybe I just need to be around that right now…"  
  
His comments were getting increasingly strange. Tyr got up and walked over to the shelf, picking up his gauss gun. Holding it up in front of Milon, he said:  
  
"This is a basic weapon. I will show you how to use it… tomorrow. Now go back to your own quarters, it is late."  
  
"Not sleepy. You dying to get rid of me, huh?"  
  
Tyr could not fight a thin, slightly evil grin as he looked the boy right in the eyes and said:  
  
"Would you rather sit down and tell me who engineered your genetical code, and for what purpose?"  
  
The small bit of colour on Milon's face drained. He looked as if Tyr had just charged up the gun he was holding and put it to his temple. For a second Tyr almost felt… sympathy for him.  
  
"No…" he whispered.  
  
"Some kind of military operation? Are you a spy? A terrorist?"  
  
"No."  
  
Milon looked down, shaking his head. He looked ashamed now. All the glittering mischief was gone from his eyes. He looked much the same as he had, hanging in chains on that wall in the bloodsplattered warehouse. Insecure. Afraid. Without really knowing why, Tyr put his hand on the boy's shoulder and spoke in a low voice:  
  
"Then what is it? Tell me."  
  
Milon would not look at him, and when he started to speak his voice was quiet and hesitant.  
  
"Harper told me about you, y'know. About Nietzscheans in general, I mean. The way you're so totally geared to survival and passing your genes on and everything, no matter what the cost. About how important it is to you who your ancestors were and what they did... well, I don't have any parents... I don't have any relations at all. How would you feel if you found out that everyone you thought you knew, everything you fought for, or against, in your whole life was just... fake?"  
  
"How can it be fake? You are standing here, living, breathing, is that not real?"  
  
Tyr did not understand. Milon just looked at the floor, unhappily. The floor that suddenly tilted. Tyr staggered backwards and reached out to push Milon away before he slammed into him. The floor tilted again, this time in the opposite direction, and Tyr almost lost his balance.  
  
"Andromeda, what is going on?" he called.  
  
"We are under attack by an unknown vessel."  
  
Again. He was starting to get tired of this. He stuck the gun in holster on the side of his right leg and ran out the door. Milon followed him. Good. He certainly did not want the kid snooping around his quarters while he was gone.  
  
They ran through the trembling corridors, filled with the flashing red light of the alarm.  
  
"You think it's them again?" Milon shouted over the sound of resonating metal and the persistent siren.  
  
"To whom are you referring?"  
  
"You know! Them! Those people you think it's my fault they're attacking us! Those people who want to capture me and..."  
  
Tyr stopped so suddenly that Milon ran right into him. Tyr grabbed him by both shoulders and stared at him.  
  
"And what? Want to capture you and what?"  
  
Milon stared back with slightly panicky eyes.  
  
"And... y'know... hurt me."  
  
"Yes. I am almost certain that these are the exact same people."  
  
The tremors through the ship seemed to have finally ceased as they reached the command deck, just in time to hear Rommie say:  
  
"Incoming message."  
  
"On screen."  
  
The picture of a man in his late forties appeared on the screen. He was dressed in the same kind of scruffy, brown clothes as the people that Tyr had seen chasing them on Earth. So how did a poor excuse for a human like this, from a slave planet like Earth, get his hands on a high-tech, battle class starship that obviously also must have a slipstream drive if they had managed to follow the Andromeda all the way from the little blue planet? With no introduction whatsoever, the man said:  
  
"You have something which belongs to us and we want it back!"  
  
Dylan gave the man one of his standard sarcastic smirks, gave the attacker the whole commonwealth introduction, and continued:  
  
"And you believe that opening fire on us with no previous attempt at contact will be the best way to get what you want?"  
  
"Those were merely warningshots. If we wanted to destroy you, we would not be having this conversation."  
  
Dylan laughed. Rommie looked insulted. Milon only looked frightened.  
  
"May I ask who I am speaking to?" Dylan finally said.  
  
"Captain Morgan of the Vertex. Now hand over the stolen goods or we will be forced to go into battle with you."  
  
"Well, considering we've already blown one of your ships out of the sky, you seem a bit eager to start a conflict. Besides, I have no idea what stolen goods you are referring to."  
  
"A Genie slave which you stole from us on Earth!"  
  
"Freeze transmission."  
  
Dylan turned around slowly and looked at Milon. Milon took a step back, into Tyr. Tyr fought the instant reaction of pushing him away and instead stepped back, leaving him some space. During the second or so Milon's body had been against his, he had felt him trembling. He could still smell the fear. He took another step back.  
  
"Milon?" Dylan said.  
  
"Don't…" Milon begged, "Don't hand me over to them! They won't shoot us down, that would mean killing me! They won't. Please don't hand me over…"  
  
"Who are they?"  
  
"I don't know! I think they're from… from another dimension. All I know is they want me for something… something bad."  
  
"Another dimension?"  
  
"Yes… I think they're… channellers or something. They might have crossed over... I don't know!"  
  
"Their ship is amazingly advanced," Rommie said, "I have no way of correctly calculating our chances against them in battle. The last ship we fought was much, much smaller. This one must be the mothership. Clearly, last time, they were not aware of our battle capabilities either."  
  
"But they are now…" Dylan said, "Resume transmission."  
  
"So, have you decided?" Morgan said.  
  
"Yes. We are representatives of the Commonwealth, not slave traders. I refuse your demands."  
  
Morgan's face contracted in anger. Seconds later the transmission was broken. An eerie silence filled the bridge as the alarm suddenly went quiet.  
  
"They are… leaving?" Rommie said.  
  
"I doubt that it is them taking no for an answer," Dylan said, "Continue on our present course."  
  
"We should be entering the system in twenty-three hours," Rommie said.  
  
"Good. Until then, see how much you can find out about this Morgan, and his ship…"  
  
Dylan had not even had time to finish the sentence before Rommie cut him off:  
  
"A small shuttle has been deployed from the Vertex. It is headed straight towards us."  
  
"I have a missile lock on them," Tyr said.  
  
"Hold you fire!"  
  
"Captain Hunt…"  
  
"It is too late," Rommie said, "Their close proximity to us, compared with the speed they're travelling at, it would be too dangerous to open fire."  
  
"It would not have been too late had I acted immediately," Tyr said under his breath.  
  
"The shuttle has docked at my airlock on the observations deck," Hologram Rommie said, "They are attempting to override the doors."  
  
"Perhaps we should go and meet them…"  
  
They picked up their weapons and ran towards the observation deck.  
  
The airlock opened just as they reached the room. Ten men came running in, guns in hand, aiming straight at them. There was a sudden standstill as Dylan, Beka Tyr and Rommie all pointed their force lances at them. The one who appeared to be the leader of this sorry little troop pointed at Milon and spoke up:  
  
"That is our Genie slave! Hand him over immediately or we will open fire."  
  
"No," was all Dylan said.  
  
Okay, so it was Tyr who started it. It was clear that they meant what they said. He had waited for Dylan's word when it came to shooting down the shuttle, and look where that had got them. He was through waiting. He fired his force lance straight to the chest of the one who had spoken. The others immediately returned his fire. A battle had broken out.  
  
It did not really last that long, but as always, time seemed to slow down for Tyr. He noticed every detail as his whole being concentrated on surviving and defeating his enemies. Scattered beams of energy were flying back and forth through the air. The fight had quickly moved into the corridors where there was cover to take. Tyr did not know how Beka and Dylan were doing, they were around a corner from his view. The android, he did not really care about. And Milon, where was Milon? Tyr spun around as an explosion in the wall behind him caused sparks to fly. Suddenly he saw Dylan running towards him, dodging the enemy fire. He was being chased by three of the enemies. Tyr aimed carefully and fired over his shoulder at the attackers who fell to the ground, smoking holes in their chests.  
  
"How many left?" he asked.  
  
"Two, three maybe."  
  
The sound of gunfire behind him and they ran back out onto the observation deck just in time to see two more of the Vertexans fall for Beka's gun.  
  
"I think that's them all," she said as silence fell over the room, "Oh no…"  
  
Tyr followed her eyes over to a corner where Rommie's body lay motionless on the floor.  
  
"Rommie…"  
  
"I'm okay... nothing Harper can't fix..."  
  
The voice had a slightly metallic echo to it. Dylan and Beka started walking across the room. Tyr counted five bodies on the floor near them, excluding the android. Three in the corridor… and their leader, over by the door. So then…  
  
Tyr spun around as a shot was fired behind him. He could feel the heat of it going past his ear. Surely the intruders could not be such bad shots? Then the man fell forwards, the gun clattering across the floor, blood rapidly forming a large pool around his face. Behind him, Milon squatted down and wiped the blood off his knife on the man's jacket. He looked up at Tyr and gave him a trembling smile. He sounded more than a little shook up as he said:  
  
"Hey Tyr, wanna call it even?"  
  
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	8. You're not there when you're not needed

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Interlude:  
  
A night full of dreams of being captured. Caught. Unable to move. What was it with people, why did they always seem to want to put him in chains? And it wasn't just dreams. It was memories. Memories that were worse than any nightmare. The tiny dungeon underneath the desert sand, the warehouse with the corrugated walls, smelling much the same. Heat and cold and hard iron holding him down. He couldn't do it again. Not again. He'd rather die than let them capture him again. Either of them. Any of them. He wouldn't let them get him alive. He would make sure Tyr showed him how to use that gun.  
  
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Chapter Eight: You're not there when you're not needed  
  
The trading planet was little more than a muddy rock with a landing pad. It was about the size of the Earth's moon, with a climate that was reasonably mild, but also seemed to include constant rain. There was a sun at the right distance, obviously, but it was doubtful that it had ever been seen from the planet's surface.  
  
It was evening when they entered orbit, or it would be at their destination. They would leave for the surface as soon as day broke on the little trading post on the Northern Hemisphere. As small as the planet was, it was rotating fairly fast; night would only last about seven hours. Tyr went up to the bridge.  
  
"Are you sure you want to disembark here?" Beka asked Milon, "It looks miserable down there."  
  
She turned and looked at Dylan, like he was somehow supposed to back up her argument, but Dylan was too busy studying some computer screen or other.  
  
"Yeah, I'll be fine! It's a trading planet, right? Loads of ships are bound to come by… I'll get a lift to somewhere else," Milon said.  
  
"I think you have a bit too high an opinion of people. Most spacefaring species are very suspicious to strangers. They have to be."  
  
Beka seemed a little concerned. Not that she was going to stop Milon if he wanted to go. Tyr sat down and watched them.  
  
"I'll be alright. Really. Besides, you'll want to get on with whatever you're doing… not have me hanging around, getting in the way."  
  
Beka turned to look at the captain once again. Like she was expecting him to say something. Tell Milon that he could stay until they came across a more pleasant planet, perhaps. But Dylan was not saying anything.  
  
"We will leave in seven hours," Tyr said to Milon, who just nodded at him.  
  
Seven hours. Plenty of time. Tyr made his way to the shuttles. He did not plan on telling anybody that he was going. Obviously, Rommie would notice anyway. So what? He was really just following the captain's orders. Time to find out some more about this Morgan. And his ship.  
  
The shuttle set down hard in inches of mud, sending splashes of dirt all over the landing pad. The rain was beating down, hammering against the metal hull. Tyr suddenly remembered why he liked space so much. No weather. He pulled up the hood on his raincoat and stepped outside.  
  
Several floodlights illuminated the landing strip, but even they had to struggle with the rain, which lay like a thick, grey drapery over the land. Combined with the night, it made for the worst possible visibility. Good. Tyr headed for the door of the spaceport's terminal. It opened without any identification on his behalf. Apparently, this was a place where anybody was welcome. Either that or security was very, very bad.  
  
The inside of the terminal was not much better than the outside. At least it was dry. Ish. The floor was covered in muddy footprints. The strip lighting in the ceiling had seen better days. At this hour of the night, the place was not exactly buzzing with activity. Tyr saw a couple of people moving about, carrying heavy-looking crates, or just sitting down, waiting for the rain to let up, or the morning to come, whichever happened to occur first. He kept his hood up, and made his way to one of the communication points. Using the frequency he had obtained from the transmission to the Andromeda earlier, he sent out a hail to the Vertex. Captain Morgan's face appeared on the screen almost immediately. When he saw Tyr, he looked surprised. Like he had expected someone else.  
  
"Who are you?" the captain asked.  
  
"I am Tyr Anazasi of the Andromeda, the starship whose captain you spoke to earlier in regard to a certain… slave."  
  
"Yes. I remember."  
  
"Then you also remember that Captain Hunt was not very forthcoming in returning what had been lost by you. I am here to let you know that not necessarily all of his crew agrees with his decision."  
  
Captain Morgan's face suddenly widened in a smile. He said:  
  
"So, would you be willing to do business with us? I expect you are looking for some kind of compensation?"  
  
"Naturally."  
  
"Name your price."  
  
The captain was not much of a negotiator. It was rapidly becoming apparent to Tyr just how badly he wanted the boy back. The only question was, why?  
  
"First I want to know what use he is to you."  
  
The captain's smile faded. He seemed to be thinking about it. Then he said:  
  
"I am going to have to make a… request for you. I will freeze the transmission, wait there."  
  
The screen froze and Tyr slowly pulled his gun and looked around. The place was still mostly empty. There was only one entrance and Tyr had a clear line of vision towards it. The terminal was a one-storey building; there was no upper level where a sniper could hide. Actually, there were no hiding places at all in the big, open hall. If anybody was coming for him, he would see it. So he waited. A few minutes later, the screen came back to life with the captain's face.  
  
"Ok, Mr. Anazasi, your conditions have been met. A representative of our people is going to meet you in person to discuss the terms of the handover. There is a bar at the far end of the terminal building. Wait there."  
  
Then the screen went black as the communication ended. Tyr re- holstered his gun and started walking across the hall towards the bar. It was not so much a bar as a corner of the room where a tired-looking alien of some unknown description was standing behind a counter with three different bottles on a shelf behind him. In front of the counter were ten or so stools, three of which were occupied. Nobody even bothered to look up as Tyr sat down on a stool with his back against the wall and his eyes on the entranced. The barkeep came over to ask him what drink he wanted but Tyr just shook his head and the barkeep took no for an answer and left him alone. It was not like Tyr was taking up the place of a paying customer.  
  
He did not have to wait long. The Vertexans must have sent a group down to the surface earlier, because it had been no more than ten minutes when the doors opened and a hooded figure stepped inside, walking straight towards the bar, dripping rainwater all over the floor. The figure went straight up to Tyr and said:  
  
"Mr. Anazasi, I presume," A woman's voice. "Follow me."  
  
"Where?"  
  
"Somewhere we can talk. You wanted to know our reasons for wanting the slave back? Also, we still have to discuss the price…"  
  
Her voice was soft, but Tyr could hear an undercurrent of excitement. She was clearly happy about this new chance to get Milon back. Tyr felt confident that he was not walking into some kind of trap. After all, they were only doing business.  
  
He followed the hooded woman out into the rain. Across the landing pad and over to another building. It was some kind of hotel; a red neon sign on the front showed a bed in a circle. Diagonally across the bed was another neon tube, which for the moment was turned off. Saved them having to translate the word 'vacancies' into multiple languages.  
  
The lobby of the hotel smelt of different kinds of smoke. The carpet was encrusted with mud and cigarette ashes. In one dimly lit corner was a table and four armchairs, currently all unoccupied. No sign of anybody behind the counter. The woman walked over to the table and sat down in the chair in the corner. Tyr watched as she swept back the hood from her face and opened the buttons on the front of her raincoat. This woman was certainly not a earth-born human. Under her coat she was wearing some kind of dark blue and black uniform, so tight that it looked like a second skin. Her hair was long and black, put up in an elaborate hair-do that had only been slightly disturbed by the hood of her coat. There was some kind of gold thread winding around in her hair, and she was wearing earrings that looked like they just might be real diamonds. No, definitely not born on Earth.  
  
"Have a seat," she said.  
  
Tyr pulled his hood back and sat down. Outside the rain was beating against the windows. Apart from that, everything was silent.  
  
"Who are you?" Tyr asked.  
  
"My name is Lillian. I am the leader of a group of people who are all that remains from what was one the greatest civilisation in the galaxy. Now we have been reduced to hiding out among the oppressed masses that passes for humans on your Earth."  
  
Tyr could hear her voice tremble with emotion. Whatever it was she was about to tell him, it would almost certainly be the truth.  
  
"What happened?" Tyr asked.  
  
"The Genies, that's what happened. Freaks. They could not accept their position in our society, but chose to start a war. A war they called a rebellion. A fight for freedom. But it didn't end there, they had to escalate the war until it was no longer about their freedom, but our defeat!"  
  
She was clenching her hands into fists, her dark brown eyes glittering with anger.  
  
"And you were defeated?"  
  
"No! The Humans would never surrender to those… creatures! We were prepared to defend our society, our Earth, until the end. And that is what happened. The end. Those things destroyed the whole planet with their war. Our proud society crumbled, turned into anarchy. And it didn't even end there. As the Human colonists from other planets saw what Earth was becoming, realised the threat of the Genies, they decided to…"  
  
She paused, her voice almost breaking with bitterness.  
  
"…destroy it. They sacrificed Earth, the jewel in our crown, to get rid of those freaks. About five hundred of us Humans managed to channel through to this dimension. Were we found Earth in an even worse state than it had been at home! Humans as slaves to these… Nitzscheans! This has gone far beyond the political thing it started out as…"  
  
"So how does the boy fit in to all this?" Tyr asked.  
  
"That… boy is a Genie! He might not be from the same dimension we come from, but he still has the power to help us rebuild our society! My people are desperate, having to live as refugees. We might have the technology to open a rift in the veil, but we don't have the energy required, the power needed to channel anything. We only brought one slave with us from our dimension, and it took all of his power to allow us to bring the Vertex through. It was at the very last minute. We got a glimpse of our Earth as a crumbling ball of flames in our dimension, before the veil closed after we had brought the Vertex over. Channelling something so big takes a lot of energy. The slave died shortly after, leaving us truly stranded in this dimension."  
  
So, Milon had been right then. They had crossed over, as he called it. And the woman herself had admitted that they had the technology to shift between different dimensions. Fascinating.  
  
"But the boy is not one of your slaves," Tyr said, "So we did not steal from you after all…"  
  
"It was my men who caught the Genie on this Earth! We found he was ideal for our needs. Unfortunately, the men we had guarding him failed their duties. They left him alone and… well, you know the rest of the story."  
  
Yes, he knew the rest of what had happened, but he still did not know what their plans were. Open a rift into another dimension, yes, but why? And where did all the blood and mystical symbols he had seen in the warehouse fit it?  
  
"So, what are your plans for him, provided you do get him back?" Tyr said.  
  
Lillian looked him straight into the eyes. He could see the determination shining out of her. She would not give up until she had what she wanted. Interestingly. Incidentally, neither would Tyr.  
  
"Is Earth your home?" she asked.  
  
"No."  
  
"Well, that might make this easier for you to understand. There are an infinite amount of dimensions, but we have only explored a couple of thousand. Some of them are very similar to this one. Some of them are not. Rather than trying to leave this dimension, and risk getting trapped once again in another one, one were we might never encounter another Genie to take us out of there, we have decided to stay here and try to rebuild our society. Earth, in this dimension, is basically destroyed as it is. We intend to use the Genie to channel through a creature with enough power to wipe the planet clean, and build something new!"  
  
Was the woman insane? Tyr had the feeling that he might be talking to someone who was not in full use of their senses.  
  
"You doubt me?" Lillian said, "You don't think it's possible?"  
  
"Is it?"  
  
"Of course it is! There are millions of demon dimensions out there. Do you believe in God?"  
  
Tyr did not answer, just waited for her to continue.  
  
"Well, there are plenty of gods spanned across the dimensions. Maybe not as powerful as the one many Humans believe in, but certainly powerful enough for our purposes… if the power is harnessed correctly…"  
  
Well, that would explain the symbols and the air of religious fanaticism in the warehouse.  
  
"So the boy is clearly very valuable to you. From the reaction of the people chasing us on Earth, you would almost think they worshipped him," Tyr said to start wrapping things up.  
  
"Some of our people sees this Genie as our saviour, a key to a better world," Lillian's face tightened into a grimace of contempt, "They have obviously forgot that it was Genies who put us in this situation to begin with. To me he's nothing but a living battery. But a battery we need."  
  
Tyr smiled.  
  
"Maybe it is time to discuss what is in this deal for me?"  
  
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	9. All in the timing

A/N: And so it starts turning a bit dark... violence and fighting and other nasty carry-on. Oh, and I guess I should warn sensitive readers of the (well-warranted) use of the F-word which might pop up from here on in... Other than that, what can I say? Oh yeah; Review! But I guess that goes without saying at this late stage... as does 'thanks for reading'!  
  
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Interlude:  
  
Strange feelings about the place. Strange emotions from the crew. Dylan seemed… edgy. Harper radiated some nervousness. Trance was sad, no doubt about that. And Tyr was… not there. He was supposed to teach him how to use a gun, but he wasn't in his quarters. Ah, well. Tomorrow morning he would be out of here. Just leave them all behind. That's what he did best, right?  
  
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Chapter Nine: All in the timing  
  
Tyr returned to the Andromeda in the early hours of the new day. The ship was quiet, everybody was sleeping. Everybody except Andromeda herself of course. The hologram appeared next to Tyr as he walked from the shuttle hangar to his quarters.  
  
"Where have you been?"  
  
"Investigating the planet."  
  
"You should have told us you were going."  
  
Tyr did not answer, just kept going until he reached the door of his quarters. Time to get some sleep. About three hours was all he would get. Luckily, it was also all he needed. Tomorrow he would let Dylan know about his plan. As Tyr walked into his quarters, Rommie's hologrammatic projection shrugged her shoulders and disappeared.  
  
While Tyr and Harper were getting the Maru ready to go parts shopping, Milon said goodbye to Dylan, Beka and Rommie. Trance was just hanging around on the bridge of the Maru, seemingly in a very bad mood. More than once, Harper asked her what was wrong, but she just mumbled 'nothing' and continued to sulk.  
  
"Right, time to get a move on!" Harper said, "We haven't got all day. Or, yeah, we do have all day, but unfortunately the day's not very long."  
  
"Harper is right," Tyr said, Trance, will you go get Milon."  
  
Trance frowned but got up and left without a word. The normally so lively alien girl was unusually silent, walking with her shoulders slumping, the spring gone from her step. Tyr wondered briefly what was wrong with her, but he did not ask. Ten minutes later she returned to the hangar with Milon by her side. Milon looked at Tyr and gave him a quite subdued smile. Was he not happy to leave? Did it make a difference?  
  
"It's raining down there," Trance said.  
  
For a second they waited for her to continue, but it did not seem that she had a point to make. Or maybe she just did not know what to say. The mood onboard seemed generally low as they took off. Even Harper was keeping mostly quiet. Finally, Milon spoke up:  
  
"Hey, what's with all the long faces? You don't like having to leave the ship or something?"  
  
"It's not the ship we're leaving," Trance said sullenly, then got up and walked off the bridge.  
  
Milon looked like he was feeling guilty for something, then said:  
  
"I should probably go and talk to her…"  
  
He followed her out.  
  
"You think there's something going one between those two?" Harper asked.  
  
"I really do not care."  
  
"Yeah, I know, but still. I've never seen Trance so glum. I think she likes him."  
  
"Perhaps."  
  
"I think she'll be grumpy for a while now he's leaving," Harper continued, "But she'll get over it. Right? I mean it's not like we're leaving him there to die. He'll be fine, right? Besides, it's his own choice, you've got to respect that…"  
  
He was rambling again. Maybe he was trying to make himself feel better as well. Maybe he already considered Milon his friend, and was not happy to see him go. At least Tyr did not have any feelings of that nature. Besides, after Tyr's plan had been executed everything would be different. They would have more power and knowledge than any of their enemies. Tyr would have a perfect ace up his sleeve. Some might say it was ironic how he had just stumbled across this chance, but Tyr knew that it had nothing to do with luck, it was how you used the situation to your advantage that mattered. Something had made him free the boy on that first day. His instinct. His instincts always paid off in the end. And a good plan was all in the timing.  
  
They set down on the planet's surface in grey haze. The landing pad and the terminal building looked even dirtier in daylight. There were only about five other ships in the port, mostly small, rusty shuttle-type vessels. The rain was still falling like it would never stop. Tyr had a feeling that might actually be the truth. Milon and Trance had returned to the bridge. Tyr thought he could see a slightly red hue around Trance's eyes.  
  
"The repair shop is on the far side of the terminal building," Harper said, looking at the map, "and there's some kind of hostelry over there… maybe you could get a room there if you don't get a lift straight away…"  
  
He did not sound very enthusiastic.  
  
"Go down to the holds," Tyr said, "I will follow you down. Wait until I get there."  
  
"Yes boss!"  
  
Harper jumped out of the chair, making a half-hearted, sarcastic salute with his hand, but at least he did as he was told. Milon turned to Tyr, smiling as always.  
  
"So, guess you forgot all about teaching me how to use a gun, eh? Afraid I'd turn into a security hazard?"  
  
"I did not forget. There was simply no time."  
  
"Yeah, there never is, is there? Well, I suppose this is it. I did thank you for saving me, right? I mean, I'd hate to come across as an ungrateful creep."  
  
"You thanked me. Now go down to the holds and wait for me."  
  
Tyr turned his back on them and waited until he heard the door shut behind him. Then he called up the Andromeda. Dylan answered his transmission immediately.  
  
"Tyr. Problems?"  
  
"No problems. I have found out some rather interesting facts about Captain Morgan and his people… I think it might be worth while holding onto our guest for a while longer…"  
  
After having worked out the specifics of the plan with the captain, Tyr made his way down to the lower levels of the ship to find the others. Trance and Harper was sitting on one of the cargo crates in the hold, talking quietly. When Tyr entered the room, they both looked up with the looks of two children who had just been told they were not allowed any sweets. But where was the boy?  
  
"So, can we go get this over with now?" Harper said.  
  
"Yes. Where is Milon?"  
  
"He's gone," Trance said with a hint of anger in her voice.  
  
"Yeah, he said to tell you so long and all the best, but he didn't really want to wait around any longer," Harper filled in.  
  
Tyr suddenly felt the sickening lurch of a well thought out plan blowing up in his face. Or, not even so much his face as Milon's. They boy was going to walk straight into the arms of the waiting Vertexans. This was not how it was supposed to be.  
  
"What do you mean he is gone?" Tyr roared, "I told you to wait for me! I told him to wait here. Stupid boy!"  
  
"What's your problem?" Trance said, even angrier now, "You wanted to get rid of him, he went, what more do you want?"  
  
"The problem is; he is walking straight into an ambush!"  
  
Tyr grabbed his guns and started off towards the airlock.  
  
"What?" Trance shouted.  
  
There was no time to explain. Trance and Harper would not be of much use in a fight either. Well, maybe Harper could have come in useful, but it was probably better if they stayed here. No time to contact Dylan again either, Tyr would just have to handle the situation on his own. As usual. If it was not already too late.  
  
As the outer door of the airlock on the Maru opened and Tyr jumped down onto the landing pad, the rain had turned into a veritable torrent. He was soaked right through in less than a minute. It did not matter.  
  
Tyr looked around, but all he could see was the mostly empty landing strip. Further away, everything was lost behind a curtain of rain. Which way would Milon have gone? Tyr decided that the hotel was the most likely direction. He started running. It was not easy, the mud was slippery and his wet clothes were clinging to his body, slowing him down. He did not know how much truth there was behind Lillian's story of the demon brought through from another world, but it seemed at least partly plausible that if Tyr did not manage to get to Milon before the Vertexans did, not only would the boy most likely die, but the Earth might also be in danger of being wiped out. Harper would not be happy.  
  
Suddenly, Tyr caught the sound of screaming through the din of the falling rain. It seemed to be coming from somewhere behind the hotel building. He forced himself to run faster. As he rounded the corner, he could make out shapes of moving people through the rain. They were down the far end of what appeared to be a parking lot. A flash of light momentarily brightened up the dull day, like lightning striking the ground. When Tyr got closer, he could see Milon in the middle of the small crowd, trying to fight off about fifteen or so men who had him surrounded. He was fighting silently but absolutely ferociously. Every time one of his attackers moved in, he would let off a flash of light and a flurry of knife slashes. Tyr could see three bodies on the ground already, their blood mixing with the mud, running down the street in dark red stream. The boy was so obviously outnumbered, but he would not give up. They wanted him alive and he knew it. The problem was, so did Tyr.  
  
Tyr drew his gun and fired off a couple of shots, taking down two of the attackers. But this time they were returning fire. Tyr had to dive headlong into the mud to avoid being hit by a high energy blast coming out of the rain, heading straight for him. Damn. He crouched down behind a large bin, which stank of rotting food. Sometimes he really could have done without his enhanced Nietzschean sense of smell. From this cover he quickly fired off another rapid series of shots, but the rain and the moving targets made it hard to hit anything. Then he heard a sound behind him and spun around. Another group of people was coming fast around the corner. About twenty men pointed their guns straight at him. He was trapped.  
  
Milon might be both brave and desperate, but eventually they closed in on him. Tyr saw them grabbing the boy, wrenching the knife out of his hand, punching and kicking until he was slumped on the ground. The people surrounding Tyr simply stood there waiting until the smaller group hauled Milon to his feet and brought him up to them. He was still struggling to break free, but unarmed and beaten he did not stand much of a chance. No more flashes of light were coming, Tyr thought that he might have exhausted his powers for now.  
  
"So, what do we do with this one?"  
  
One of the men poked Tyr in the side with his gun.  
  
"I don't know. We don't need him. Kill him."  
  
"No!"  
  
The voice came from the corner of the hotel facing the landing strip. Tyr turned his head to see Lillian come walking through the rain, the drops bouncing off her waterproof coat.  
  
"Let him go. He has fulfilled his part of the deal."  
  
She nodded at Tyr and the ragged soldiers parted to let him out. Tyr saw Milon raise his bloodied face and stare at him with unbelief in his eyes. Suddenly he felt a churning, unfamiliar sensation in his stomach. He thought it might be guilt. No, it must be anger of having his plan backfire on him like this. He had not meant for this to happen, so how could he feel guilty?  
  
"You sold me out?" Milon said, his voice sounding thin and tight.  
  
Tyr watched as Lillian walked up to her prisoner, slowly eyeing the boy up and down. Then, unexpectedly, she hit him across the face, hard enough to split his lip.  
  
"Silence slave!"  
  
Her voice was so full of hatred, it did not leave Tyr any doubt as to what would happen to Milon when, if, he had fulfilled their purpose. There was that strange feeling again. Milon looked at Try once again, like the blow had not even registered with him.  
  
"You sold me out?" he said again.  
  
He started trashing about violently, trying to break free, but they were too many holding him down.  
  
"You bastard!" he screamed at Tyr, "You fucking double crossed me! I should have known! I should have fucking known the minute I laid eyes on you, you traitorous fuck!"  
  
Tyr swallowed. He had honestly never imagined language like that coming out of someone so soft looking as Milon. Not that it mattered. He was wrong. Tyr had not double-crossed him. Not that he would ever know the truth now.  
  
"I'll get you for this Tyr!" Milon screamed as they started dragging him off, "I'll make you wish that you never met me!"  
  
Tyr could hear the tears on his voice, even though he could not make them out amongst the raindrops on his face. The threat was wasted on Tyr though, he already wished that they had never met. Brushing the rainwater out of his face, he started making his way back to the Maru.  
  
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	10. That which might be guilt

---------------------------------------------------------------------------- ------------------------------------------------  
  
Interlude:  
  
That bastard. That sneaky, Nietzschean bastard. How had he not seen it coming? His feelings had been quite well hidden, but it wasn't like he was impossible to read. But he hadn't felt anything except curiosity and sometimes a little bit of surprise from him. No signs of such a backstabbing, that's for sure. But that's what had happened. Ironic, in a way. There was a time when he'd thought Pitch had done the same thing. And he'd tried to kill him for it. Well, what could he say, he didn't take betrayal too well.  
  
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Chapter Ten: That which might be guilt  
  
"What do you mean they got him?" Trance shouted.  
  
Tyr took a deep breath and forced himself to stay calm.  
  
"It did not go to plan. I will contact Dylan."  
  
He walked up to the communications console and opened a channel to the Andromeda.  
  
"Plan? What was the plan?" Trance said.  
  
Tyr just ignored her. Dylan's face appeared on the screen.  
  
"It is too late," Tyr told him, "Milon decided to take off on his own even after I told him to wait for me. The Vertexans have him now."  
  
"Too bad," Dylan said, "have you got the supplies?"  
  
"Not yet."  
  
Through the front window of the ship, they could see a shuttle taking off, heading straight for the Vertex.  
  
"Well, continue as planned and we can discuss this when you get back," Dylan said.  
  
"What? We have to go after them!" Trance said.  
  
"We'll discuss it later," Dylan said again, "Dylan out."  
  
"Tyr!"  
  
Trance marched up to him, staring at him with a desperate look on her face.  
  
"You made a deal with those… people! They tried to shoot down the Andromeda, they called Milon a slave and you made a deal with them! You used Milon as some kind of pawn in one of your sick schemes!"  
  
"It was not a 'sick scheme'! We were supposed to go out prepared. We were supposed to take their leader and find out all about this… channeller machine."  
  
"Yeah, and we weren't suppose to lose Milon! It's all your fault! You always do this! Everything has to be so secret and so hush-hush and only you know what your plans are! If you had just told us we wouldn't have let him go! But maybe that's what you wanted? Maybe those people paid you and you just don't want us to know about it! I know you, you're sneaky, you could very well have sold him out and now you're trying to fool us as well!"  
  
She was screaming at him now, her voice almost breaking. So Harper had been right then, she was obviously infatuated with the young man. Well, there was nothing Tyr could do about it right now; she would just have to get over it. And stop shouting at him. Soon.  
  
"Now you're trying to tell me that you won't go after him either! You heard the way that… Morgan talked about him! We have to save him…"  
  
"Quiet!" Tyr roared.  
  
Trance jumped back. Harper twitched a little where he was standing, leaning against the railing around the pilot's seats.  
  
"Now we will go and get those supplies, then return to the Andromeda and then, maybe, we can talk about this. Is that understood?"  
  
Trance just made a sour face and turned around, storming out the door. Harper gave Tyr a look that was not exactly happy either, and then turned to follow Trance downstairs.  
  
The trip to the repair shop was not a merry one. Trance refused to even talk to him. Harper did not say much either, which under any other conditions would have been a welcome change. When they returned to the Maru with the goods, it was already starting to get dark again.  
  
"Listen Trance, I think Milon will be fine," Harper offered, "I'm sure he can take care of himself."  
  
She gave him a pale smile, but did not say anything. Tyr thought to himself that this would probably not be the best time to bring up the information Lillian had given him about the plan to open a hole in the dimensional wall and bring though a demon to wipe out the population of Earth. As he'd thought earlier, it was all in the timing.  
  
All was quiet on the bridge of the Andromeda as Tyr finished telling the rest of the crew what Lillian had said. It was not quiet for long.  
  
"Well, what are you waiting for?" Trance said.  
  
"What do you mean?" Dylan asked.  
  
"Well, we have to go after them! We're not just talking about one man anymore, even if I think that's more than reason enough, but if what Tyr says is true," she made a angry grimace, "the whole of Earth could be in danger!"  
  
"Yeah," Harper said, "there's no way we can just stand by and twiddle our thumbs while they break the rules of reality itself and my beloved homeplanet becomes a snack for some horror from another dimension! And even if they can't actually do it, which I very much doubt seeing there's precious little you can't do with the right kind of machinery… heck, we can't just abandon the poor guy like that! Not after it was us who let them catch him in the first, well the second, place! Am I wrong? No, I'm not."  
  
"So you suggest we go back all the way to a planet that has no strategic value to us, to launch a battle we have no idea if we can win, in order to save a man we know nothing about?" Dylan said.  
  
"When have you even been scared of battles you don't know if you can win?" Beka filled in.  
  
"You're on their side?"  
  
"There are sides now? But, yeah. I think we owe it to the guy to try."  
  
"I can't believe we're even having this conversation!"  
  
Trance had tears in her eyes now.  
  
"If it was one of us they took, would you not come after us?"  
  
"He is not one of us," Dylan said.  
  
"But he could be! You could ask him to join the crew! He's an empath, imagine how useful that could be in your diplomatic negotiations!"  
  
"He is a what?" Tyr asked.  
  
Trance gave him an almost hateful look and said:  
  
"He's an empath. He can sense people's feelings. Providing the people in question have feelings of course!"  
  
"Take it easy Trance," Dylan said, "You might be right about Milon having possible value as a crewmember, but there is still so much we don't know about him. We don't know who he is, we don't know if we can trust him…"  
  
"We know we can't trust Tyr, and he's still here!"  
  
"Trance! Well, I have heard everyone's opinion except yours, Tyr. What do you think?"  
  
Tyr though about it for a minute. It was true that there was little strategical gain in a rescue mission like this, the question was; was there that much to lose? They had no immediate pressing engagements, Earth was about five days' travel away, they could stay out of sight of the Vertex… it was when they got there the problems might start. Still, Tyr could not escape that small, nagging feeling in his stomach. That feeling that just might be guilt. And Milon might very well prove to be a valuable asset to the crew if he joined. He had seen the boy fight. Once Tyr had made him understand that he had not betrayed him, Milon would not be a bad person to have watching his back. And Tyr could not deny that he had developed a certain… fondness for the boy.  
  
"I think it is worth a try," he said.  
  
Harper and Beka smiled. Trance wiped a tear from her face and took a deep breath. Dylan shrugged his shoulders.  
  
"Well, seeing as the decision is unanimous… I guess we're going back to Earth." 


	11. Are we there yet?

A/N: The long wait is over! I mean, my long wait to get to post the next bit... Again, not a very long chapter, and maybe a bit mushy and... I'll just shut up now and let you get on with it, okay?  
I just noticed, the formatting came out all over the shop! I don't know why, I just uploaded the word document like normal... anyway, sorry 'bout that. This should be a bit more readable now...  
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Interlude:   
  
Darkness. Light. Pain. All kinds of it. Metal all around, the inside of a spaceship. This was wrong. They weren't supposed to get him alive. And the hate. And the anger. His or theirs? He wasn't sure.   
Landing later, being punched dragged, torn. Stench of blood, he'd been here before. Back to square one. Some large machine wired down from chains in the ceiling. A hard blow to the face. Darkness.  
  
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Chapter Eleven: Are we there yet?  
  
"We're here. Trance, where are you going?"  
  
Beka turned her head to follow Trance running towards the door.  
  
"The Maru! Come on, it's already been five days! We have to hurry!"  
  
"Take it easy. We can't just storm in on them, that would be suicide. We have to have a plan. Now who is going and who is staying here?" Dylan said.  
  
"Oh, I'm going!" Trance said, "Just try and stop me!"  
  
"And me," Harper filled in, "If those people have a machine that can let you cross over into another dimension, I definitely want to have a look! Must remember to bring a camera and a notepad... You don't think it'd be small enough to bring back with us? I would just love the chance to take something like that apart! Oh, and I want to help save Milon as well, of course."  
  
"Well, do either of you remember the way back to the warehouse?" Tyr asked, "Or have the slightest idea of what to do once you get there?"  
  
"Erm... not really," Harper admitted.  
  
Trance just gave him a blank stare. Seemed the girl had still not forgiven him for what had happened to her... friend, or whatever Milon was to her.  
  
"I suppose I will have to come with you then," Tyr eventually said.  
  
"Ok," Dylan nodded, "You can go down and take a look. But if the situation looks too dangerous, don't hesitate to call for backup. Beka and Rommie can go down in a shuttle and help you if you need it."  
  
"Then it is decided. Meet me aboard the Maru in ten minutes."  
  
After quickly collecting a choice assortment of weapons from his quarters, Tyr made his way to the hangar. The other two were already on the ship, making preparations for take-off. Tyr had hardly had time to shut the inner door of the airlock behind him before Harper hollered:  
  
"Alright, seatbelts on, seats in the upright and locked position, extinguish all cigarettes, we're out of here!"  
  
Tyr was thrown backwards as the ship shot out of the hangar like a bullet from a cannon.   
  
"Harper! Will you slow down! They will think we are attacking them and open fire if you come in at this speed!"  
  
"Relax, I know what I'm doing. There are lots of holes in the security perimeter, all you need to know is when to... drop!"  
  
As he said that, the Maru was suddenly hurtling towards the Earth like a meteorite of iron and glass. Harper and Trance were well strapped in to their seats, but Tyr was being thrown around like a ragdoll. He was not appreciating it. No doubt this was their little revenge on him for what had happened on the other planet. Well, they would pay for it, all in good time. Harper pulled up sharpish and the ship levelled out, a bit too close to the surface for comfort. The landing, however, went smoothly and Tyr decided to let the engineer away with it this time. After all, they were in a hurry.  
  
It was a grey day, but no rain as they stepped out of the ship and looked around. The place seemed almost deserted. The space-port was the same claustrophobic maze of old, rusty containers as the last time they had been here, but Tyr navigated confidently among the many little by-roads until he found the long, boarded up street where the warehouse was located. Harper and Trance followed closely behind, Harper with a gun and Trance just generally vigilant. The silence was unsettling. The only sound was that of their own footsteps, accompanied by the occasional rustling of litter in the soft breeze. There was the door, still slightly ajar. Tyr charged up his gauss gun and slowly pulled the door open. Not a sound was coming from within, but the stench of blood was worse than it had ever been, and this time there was a burnt quality to the smell. This did not look good; something terrible had definitely been going down in there. Tyr quietly wished that they were not too late, but he still could not shake the feeling that he was hoping against hope.  
  
"What are you waiting for?" Trance whispered.  
  
Tyr turned a frowning face towards her, putting his finger across his lips in a motion for her to be quiet. Then he opened the door the rest of the way, listening intently for any sound, almost feeling for any sign of presence. There was none. But there was something, underneath the stench of blood and fire, there was another, even more unpleasant smell. The smell of death. Tyr took a step inside.   
Already in the anteroom, or whatever it was, Tyr could tell that there were no enemies here. At least no living ones. A body was sticking out from behind the corner, its back burnt to a crisp, probably as he had been trying to reach the exit. Tyr recognised the clothes; it was one of the Vertexans. Behind him Trance made a short whimpering sound. Tyr ignored her and stepped resolutely around the corner and into the main hall.  
The smell hit him full force, as did the sight of what had happened. The room was a slaughterhouse. There were bodies lying everywhere, charred to varying degrees of blackness. Many of them had pieces of metal of different sizes piercing their bodies. Like something metallic had exploded and sent shards flying everywhere. And at a closer look, that was exactly what must have happened. There were bits of chains hanging from the ceiling, some with chunks of iron still attached to them. Cables and circuitry were sticking out everywhere amongst the junk. Clearly, this was all that was left of the amazing dimension-crossing machine.   
At the far wall, the debris seemed to form a rough, circular shape. And in the shape lay the only body untouched by the fire. Tyr walked over to the white figure, stepping over several corpses on his way. The last one he stepped over, he recognised. It was a woman's body, with black, gold-entwined hair. It was Lillian. He stepped into the circle, reholstered his gun and squatted down. Milon was lying face down on the floor, fresh bruises still clearly visible on the pale, bared skin on his back. Tyr reached out and put his hand to the side of the boy's neck. There it was, his heartbeat. Faint, but regular. An involuntary sigh of relief escaped Tyr.  
  
"Is he..."  
  
Trance could apparently not manage to say it.  
  
"He is alive."  
  
Tyr checked quickly for any broken bones in his neck or back, but they all seemed to be intact. He still might have internal injuries, but there was no way of finding out without moving him first. Carefully, Tyr turned him over onto his back and pulled him halfway into his lap so that he could hold him with one arm and check for broken ribs with his free hand. Milon's face was slightly grazed on one side and Tyr could still see the mark where Lillian had split his lip. He wondered briefly why the boy had not healed his injuries like the time in the training room, but he supposed that he might have been rendered unconscious aboard the enemy ship. Suddenly Milon stirred and his lips moved.  
  
"...Pitch? That you?"  
  
It was just a whisper, barely enough for Tyr to hear, and it did not make much sense. He lifted Milon's head with his free hand and looked at his pale face.  
  
"It is me, Tyr. Open your eyes."  
  
Milon's light green eyes flicked halfway open. He seemed to have trouble focusing. Tyr thought it was best to get him back to the Andromeda's medical facility as soon as possible, so he stood up, lifting Milon off the ground with ease. He was even lighter than he looked.  
  
"You?" Milon whispered.  
  
"Yes. Me."  
  
"You... you sold me out! You betrayed me..."   
  
His voice sounded as worn out as he looked. Like he had been screaming himself hoarse and could hardly speak any longer. He knotted one hand into a fist and hit Tyr on the chest with about as much force as a sparrow landing. The poor boy was completely drained. They must have tried to use his light power to run the machine but maybe it had overloaded or maybe Milon had made it overload. Clearly it had taken every bit of energy his body could generate. No demons in sight though.  
  
"Let me go..." Milon whispered.  
  
Tyr's first instinct was to say no, you are coming with me like it or not, but then he thought better of it. He let go of Milon's legs so he could stand up. Milon tried to, but immediately fell to the floor the second Tyr let him go, like a puppet that had its strings cut. Tyr bent down and picked him up again.  
  
"See, there is no way you can walk. If you do not wish to stay here, I suggest you let me carry you."  
  
Trance came up to them. She stood next to Tyr, looking down on Milon, her hand stroking his hair.  
  
"Hi. We came to save you. I'm so happy you're alive!"  
  
"Am I?"  
  
"Yes of course you are! And we're taking you back to the Andromeda, you'll be as good as new!"  
  
Harper, who until now had been looking around the room with a disgusted look on his face, said:  
  
"You've any idea how lucky you are to be alive? Everyone else... ain't! And this machine is totalled... shame. I would have liked to get even an idea of what it once looked like. Ah well, the main thing is you're alright."  
  
Milon did not answer him, just leaned his head against Tyr's chest. It was obviously not a sign of affection, but purely of the fact that he was too exhausted to hold his head up. Tyr carried him out of the bloodstinking building and down the street with Trance skipping along next to him and Harper following closely behind.   
When they reached the Maru, Milon was asleep in Tyr's arms. Obviously he must not be all that worried that Tyr was going to take him anywhere he did not want to go. Or maybe he could sense that Tyr's feelings were not malicious. Tyr set him down gently on one of the bunks in the Maru's sleeping quarters. Trance was constantly hovering around them, looking at Milon's sleeping form with a half worried, half happy expression.  
  
"Are you ready for take off?" came Harper's voice over the internal communications system.  
  
"Yes. Fly more gently this time."  
  
"Sure thing."  
  
The ship lifted off the ground as gently as leaf on the breeze and set a steady course for the Andromeda. Harper was not that bad a pilot when he made an effort. Trance sat down on the bed next to Milon and looked down on him. Tyr could tell from the way she acted that there really was something more there than just concern for a friend. How stupid of the girl to let her feelings run away with her like this when there was still no guarantee that Milon would want to stay on the ship. Still, Tyr was not going to say anything.  
  
"Tyr," Trance said.  
  
"Yes?"  
  
"Did you really make a deal with the Vertexans to hand over Milon?"  
  
Her voice was quiet but Tyr could sense some real emotion in it.  
  
"Yes. But I was going to warn him. We were going to set them up, get their leader and find out all about this dimension machine. Only this stupid boy took off on his own even after I had told him to wait..."  
  
The last sentence he had not even been speaking to Trance, but for some strange reason he was talking to Milon's sleeping body. It was odd, what he was feeling. Almost as if Milon had been... family. A younger brother perhaps, or even a son. Tyr took a deep breath and went up to the bridge to see how much longer until they arrived at the Andromeda.  
  
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	12. Previously on the Traveller

A/N: Right, here we go. All is revealed. Tell me what you think. Ah, go on. 

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Chapter Twelve: Previously on the Traveller

Trance was still sitting by Milon's side as he came to properly. She had performed every medical check she knew on him, but there didn't seem to be anything wrong with him except for a couple of bruises and total exhaustion. Then she had just been sitting there for a while, watching him sleep. It was strange; a week ago she hadn't even known he existed and now it felt like her heart would break if something happened to him. It wasn't just that he knew about alternate realities and possibilities, not just that he was different from any other human, or alien, she had ever met, it was… something else, just some feeling. And the worst of all was of course that that feeling was not mutual.

"Hi, you're awake!"

She smiled at him as he opened his eyes.

"Hey Trance…"

He sounded so tired. Like his breath would hardly carry the words. But she knew that all he really needed was rest.

"You're going to be okay…" she said.

"You think?"

"I know. Milon… when I saw you lying there on the ground… I got really scared. I thought you might be… dead."

"Well, I felt like it."

He gave her a pale smile. Without thinking, she took his hand in hers.

"Listen, Dylan said you might be able to stay with us and…"

"Oh, I don't know..." he interrupted.

"Why not? Where else would you go?"

"Yeah, you're right... but that's not what I mean. It's... I don't know how to say this..."

What was it he wanted to say? Last time they had a proper conversation, Milon had got angry and stormed out of the room.

"Just say it, I'll understand," she said.

"Ok. I'm sorry I was so... cold earlier. But it doesn't matter if I stay here or go, there's not going to be anything... y'know, between us. I like you and all, but... I can't."

"Why?"

Trance couldn't help feeling worried. Was it because he was human and she was... not? Or was it because of something else? Milon closed his eyes and looked like he was going to fall asleep again before he had a chance to tell her.

"Why?" she repeated.

"Well, because people I... like, tend to die. Or leave. And that happened not so long ago... someone died. Was killed."

"Someone you loved? A woman?"

"Yes."

She could tell from his voice how hard it was for him to say this. To have to remember it, acknowledge it as a fact by telling her. He closed his eyes again and she could see a tear run from the corner of his eye. She looked at the wrist of the hand she was still holding. The scar. Obviously this was the explanation he had not been willing to give her before.

"Oh, Milon..."

Trance was interrupted by the door to the medical unit opening. Tyr stepped into the room, oblivious as always of other people's privacy.

"Trance, would you give us a minute?" he said.

"I don't think so… he really needs the rest."

"Trance, leave!"

Tyr's voice was calm, but she knew that he meant it. She looked at Milon, who nodded at her as if to say that it was alright. Trance walked out of the room, leaving them on their own.

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Tyr walked up to the bed and looked down on Milon. The boy looked impossibly pale under the white fluorescent lights of the medical room. His ribs were bruised, his arms were cut, probably by flying metal splinters from the explosion, but he would live. And heal. Now it was time to make sure Tyr would do the same. The intensity of the hatred and determination Tyr had seen in Milon's eyes as they dragged him away was enough for him to know. Know that if he did not convince Milon that he had not betrayed him, there was a very real chance that the boy would try to kill him. Or at least injure him severely as revenge for what he thought Tyr had done to him. Milon might be weak as a newborn kitten right now, but Tyr had a feeling that when it came to vengeance, this was a man who could wait. The look in his eyes alone told Tyr that Milon had been betrayed enough times in his young life to let any more treacheries go unpunished. It also told him it had not always been like this. At one point, most likely recently, he had been pushed over the edge. It was not old, ingrained bitterness he could see, it was a freshly wounded soul that would lash out desperately to strive to bring justice where there really could be none.

"It is time we talk," Tyr said.

"I've said all I have to say to you."

Milon turned his face away from him. Stubborn boy. Tyr grabbed his chin lightly but turned his head back firmly enough as to allow no resistance.

"But I have not. You think you know what happened. You are wrong."

"Yeah, sure. You have to say that now, don't you, now that I survived."

"Are you implying that I am afraid of you?"

"Maybe you should be."

Tyr remembered the flash of light, the knife that had been brought to his throat in a heartbeat. This soft-looking, so often smiling young man could have killed him. To forget that would be foolish and arrogant.

"I did not betray you," Tyr said, "I told you to wait for me. You left anyway. Had you only done what I told you, the situation would have been very different. I had a plan."

A realisation was beginning to show on Milon's face at last. He studied Tyr with tired eyes, and Tyr could hear Trance's words repeating in his mind. 'He's an empath' she had said, 'he can read people's feelings'. Was that what he was doing now? 'Reading' Tyr's feelings? Well, good. Then he would know that Tyr was telling the truth. And that he was more than a little uncomfortable with this whole empathy thing.

"So," Milon said, "You didn't sell me out, you just gambled me like a cheap watch. Well, thanks for letting me know, I feel so much better now."

Despite his words, and his sarcastic tone, he looked like he actually did feel better. That cold, sharp look in his eyes had softened somewhat. It did not look like Tyr was the top entry on his death-list anymore.

"I..." Tyr hesitated, why was this so hard? "I am sorry. I should have let you in on the plan. It was... an error."

He almost had to force the apology out. Milon did probably not know what a unique thing he had just received; a Nietzschean admittance of guilt. No, obviously he did not, since he said:

"Well, yeah, you can say that again!"

Tyr gritted his teeth. Milon was still looking at him like he was trying to read his emotions. Then he said:

"Alright, I guess I forgive you then."

"So it is true, what Trance said, that you can sense the feelings of others?"

Tyr thought he could see a faint trace of a smile on Milon's face as he answered:

"Sometimes. Not now though. Too tired."

So he had not been using his ability to tell that Tyr was speaking the truth? Still, he had believed him. He had forgiven him. How strange. 

Milon had closed his eyes, his breathing become deeper, slower. He was falling asleep. His right arm, with a transparent tube of intravenous drip attached to it, was sliding off the side of the bed. Tyr caught it carefully, checking that the needle was still safely inserted in the vein. Then something caught his eye. A pale, vertical scar on the inside of the boy's wrist. Tyr frowned. Without waking Milon up, he reached across his chest and picked up his other arm. A similar scar was present on his left wrist. There was no doubt in Tyr's mind of what it meant. Milon stirred a little and opened his eyes.

"What're you doing?"

"Nothing."

Tyr dropped his arm and turned away.

"Ah, I get it. Feels like a waste of time saving me now, does it?"

"Frankly, yes," Tyr said coldly.

He was feeling angry. Why would he feel angry? What was it to him if the boy had wished to end his life or not? Disappointment, maybe, he could have understood, but not this sudden urge to grab Milon and shake him. And why did he have to struggle to keep from asking about what had happened? It did not matter; suicide was cowardly and downright inexcusable. He should already be out the door. But he was not.

"You angry?" Milon asked with a hint of amusement to his voice.

Tyr spun around and fixed his eyes on him.

"Angry? I feel nothing but contempt!" he lied.

"Oh, contempt now, is it?"

Milon was actually smiling at him. Somehow it made Tyr furious.

"You find that funny?" he spat, "It amuses you that you have lost any respect I might once have had for you?"

Apparently it did, because Milon smiled even wider. It was a disturbingly kind smile.

"I never knew you cared!" 

He chuckled softly.

"You stupid boy! Look at you! You are young, more than healthy; you have these amazing gifts of power! You could have really accomplished something, and still you chose the most... dishonourable, most... spineless way out! What would your parents say if they knew you were responsible for such mindless waste!?"

He was shouting at Milon, letting his anger out. Milon's face was changing now to mirror that anger.

"Will you fuck off!" he screamed, "I told you; I don't have any parents! Weren't you listening? And what do you know about what I could have been? I never had a choice! Any choice I thought I made turned out to be planned by someone else! And when everything, EVERYTHING, is taken away from you just for the sake of entertaining others, how much of a fucking choice do you thing you've left? Yeah, you can stay on your high horse, Tyr, with your warrior's pride or whatever it is you Nietzscheans value so much, but you don't know _anything_. You can judge me all you like, see if I care."

He turned his face away again, but not before Tyr could see tears in his eyes. Maybe he had been too hard on the boy. Sighing, Tyr pulled up a chair to the side of the bed and sat down.

"You are going to have to start explaining things to me boy."

"I'm not a boy and I don't have to explain anything to you. Why don't you just leave me alone, seeing as I disgust you so much."

"Not you," Tyr said, putting a hand tentatively on his shoulder, "only what you did."

"Will you please not touch me."

Tyr withdrew his hand.

"What is wrong with you boy? You do not want to tell me what happened, yet you expect me to feel sympathy for you? You talk in clues but expect me to understand you?"

"I don't expect anything from you."

"You expected me to be on your side against the Vertexans. You expected me to choose your safety over financial gain. You expected a lot from somebody who owed you nothing and to whom you would give nothing."

There was no anger in Tyr's voice, and none in his heart, not any more. Milon turned and looked at him. There were still tears on his face, but the anger was gone there too.

"Yeah, I guess you're right. I guess I am an ungrateful creep then," he sounded tired, "So, why are you still here? What do you want from me?"

"The truth."

"The truth? I don't even know what that means anymore."

"Tell me what you do know."

Milon took a deep breath. Then he seemed to make his mind up and said:

"Look, I'll only tell this story once. If you think the others want to know... I know Trance does... maybe you should go get them?"

Tyr rose without a word and left to tell the others.

About half an hour later, the whole crew was assembled in the medical facility. Even Rommie's android body was present, which Tyr found to be a bit unnecessary. Milon was sitting up on the bed now, cross-legged and swaddled in a big blanket. He still looked tired, but more than that; nervous.

"Hey, what a turn out!" he said as they stood around silently, waiting for him to tell his story, "Well, I guess I always drew a large audience..."

Tyr thought he could hear a slight trembling to his voice. Nobody said anything, so Milon continued:

"By now I guess you all know that I come from an alternative dimension... and that I'm a Genie. All Genies have abilities that stem from one or more of the six basic elements. Mine are light, as you know, and the empathy belongs to water. The healing thing belongs to light as well... Any questions so far?"

He managed a thin smile. Tyr was sure there were plenty of questions to be asked, but wisely enough nobody decided to interrupt.

"Right... you also know that I've been genetically engineered. But what you don't know is to what extent. What I mean is, usually when you're talking about genetical tinkering it has to do with an unborn baby... they go in and change things such as vulnerability to certain diseases... physical handicaps... things like that. But the person, the basic lot of genes, is still intact. It has some traits from the father, some from the mother... you know."

He took another deep, shuddering breath and wrapped the blanket tighter around himself.

"With me, it was different. With me, they didn't just change a couple of things. They... did some sort of cut and paste job on my genes... it's like... instead of inheriting my characteristics from two people, I've inherited things from... probably thousands of different people. I'm completely, totally customised on a genetical level. That's how I really have no biological parents. Or thousands, whichever! They claim they picked the best out of the whole generation... but it wasn't necessarily the best. It was what suited their purposes... they made me for what they were going to use me for. I found this out a week ago."

He paused, letting the information sink in. Still nobody spoke up, just waited for him to continue. Tyr wondered what purpose he was talking about, but he presumed that the story would come to that soon.

"That's why I took off," Milon said, "I tried to kill the woman who… started the project. Made me. Whatever. I went crazy… stole power from my best friend, power of darkness, and it made me insane. I would have killed her, but he stopped me. Pitch stopped me. The next day, I jumped through a channeller. Just punched in some random number and went through. It brought me to this dimension, Earth, not far from where you found me. Before I was hardly even through the veil, those people knocked me out. They must have some kind of Genie sensor… the rest, as they say…"

He looked at the floor, avoiding their eyes. Like he was afraid of what they would think of him. But he had still managed to leave out the most important piece of information. It was clear he was not going to continue of his own accord. It was also clear that none of the others were going to ask him. It was down to Tyr. As always.

"What was the purpose they made you for?" he asked.

Milon looked up, into his eyes, looking absolutely terrified. Nobody said a word. Finally Milon spoke again, almost whispering:

"Tyr, remember when you asked me if I was some kind of terrorist or spy? Well, if I had been, maybe I could've lived with it. I could've understood why they did it… but that wasn't it. I… I'm an actor. I was in this TV series called 'the Traveller'. Very popular show. We went to loads of different dimensions, basically just doing whatever we liked, and they filmed it. In the beginning, there was a script. Then it was kind of like an exploration show… we always managed to get into trouble, or at least do something interesting… And then things went really bad. I died. They brought me back, after ten years in cryo. I tried to escape from the company because I thought I had found a spell that revealed the meaning of life and they were trying to exploit it, sell it to people. Turned out it wasn't really the meaning of life. People died for it. I fought so hard for it… and it wasn't even real. I tried to escape again… ended up in a dimension where I met a woman… there was a war on there. We were captured. Tortured. She was killed. They brought me back home… I couldn't take it anymore, I had a nervous breakdown, and then I found out… that it wasn't real… that they had been planning everything… and filming it. That's what I was made for. Yeah, I was a huge star…" 

Milon just sat there, trembling, refusing to look at any of them. He was shivering visibly despite the blanket. The room was so quiet that Tyr could hear heartbeats. A single tear fell from Milon's face down onto the floor. Tyr almost imagined he could hear it land. The things Milon had said were going around in Tyr's head. He understood now what Milon had meant when he had stood in Tyr's room and asked him what he would do if he found out that all he believed in was false. Tyr had faced many hardships in his life, but he had always been safe in the knowledge of who and what he was. Imagine what it must be like to have your whole life ripped from under you like that.

"Uhm," Dylan cleared his throat, "Thank you, Milon, for telling us this. When you feel better, will you come and see me on the command deck, I have an offer I want to discuss with you."

Milon looked up briefly, wiped his eyes and nodded. Dylan left the room with Rommie in tow. Beka went up to Milon, patted him briefly on the shoulder and said:

"Thanks for trusting us. I hope you'll be okay."

Then she left too. Harper looked extremely uncomfortable as he took a couple of quick steps over to Milon and said:

"Um… what can I say? That's a tough break. Man, I can't even imagine… I'll see you later, okay?"

He was gone out the door, looking like he was glad to go. Trance and Tyr exchanged a look that said that neither of them were prepared to leave just yet. Trance walked up to the bed and tried to put her arms around Milon, but he pulled away from her. Could the girl not take a hint? Milon was obviously not interested in her comfort. Milon pushed Trance away gently and said:

"Trance, don't you get it? The only reason you like me is because I'm made to be that way. They did some market research or something and picked out the characteristics that would make me... interesting, or whatever. If people didn't care what happened to me, they wouldn't watch the show! Don't you understand?"

His voice was soft and full of sadness. Slumped down like that, only his white head sticking out of the blanket, he looked younger than ever before. Like a child, almost. Tyr fought an impulse to sit down beside him and put his arm around his shoulders. After all, Milon had asked him not to touch him. Trance was still standing there, just staring at Milon. Then suddenly she twirled around and ran out of the room. Tyr followed her exit with a surprised face.

"You think I hurt her?" Milon asked.

"She will get over it."

Silence.

"Are you gonna say something, or are you just gonna stand there and stare at me?" Milon finally asked.

"I do not understand," Tyr said, "Why are you ashamed of what you are? Somebody went to great lengths to ensure that your genetical material was of the best possible quality, and you are ashamed? If you were a Nietzschean you would be regarded as a great asset to your pride, and..." Tyr added in a misdirected bid to cheer him up, "...you would get claimed by lots of females."

"Well, there's only one I want and she's dead," Milon mumbled.

"My condolences. Still, that is no reason to end your own life. It will not bring her back."

"You don't have to do the shrink routine with me Tyr, I'm not suicidal anymore."

He lay back down on the bed, rolled up, making a cocoon out of the blanket. Tyr did not doubt that the boy had been right when he had said that his makers chose his personal traits to inspire affection and care for him in others. There was something about his apparent vulnerability that brought out every deeply hidden fatherly feeling in Tyr. He did not like it, but he had started to realise that fighting the feeling would cause him more grief than accepting it. 

"I know what Dylan's going to say to me," Milon said, his eyes already half closed.

"Is that so?"

"Yeah, he's going to ask me if I want to stay... what do you think I should do?"

He was asking Tyr? Seemed like the moment to tell the truth had come for Tyr too.

"I think... you could be of benefit to the crew. It is up to you, but my advice would be to... accept the offer."

Milon did not answer, just smiled at him sleepily. Before Tyr had the chance to stop himself, he had reached out and stroked the boy's hair, once. Slightly uneasy about his actions, Tyr abruptly turned around and exited the room without another word.

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	13. We've got company!

A/N: No, that wasn't the end! Of course it wasn't, how do you write ends? Finishing stories isn't my strongest point... but we'll get to that later. First I've two chapters left to post, this one and then another. After that... well, it might just be time to ask you guys for some input, plot wise... Right, this chapter, what can I say? You think I could've left him out, but no... No, there's no getting away from certain people, as Milon should well know by now... Oh yeah! Website updated! Have to make with shameless plug! www.continue.to/brinkofmadness but now you have to click the blue ball instead of the pentagram... there have been more updates than that... no, honestly! And I guess I don't need to say it, but I will anyway: Write a review! Please... just to let me know if you think this thing has spiralled totally out of control, or is there still some hint of a plot there? I don't know anymore... I just don't know... :-)

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Chapter Thirteen: We've got company!

"I'm receiving a hail from a small, unregistered vessel coming from Earth," Rommie said.

"Spacecab?" Beka asked.

Spacecabs was the common term for privately owned ships, sometimes stolen freighters, sometimes illegally bought fighterships, which were used by the owner to ship passengers over relatively short distances for a much larger fee.

"Yes, it looks like it."

"On screen."

The transmission came through and the Spacecab pilot said in an overly confident tone:

"Andromeda, I've a customer for you. Permission to dock?"

"Well, that depends on who your customer is," Dylan answered.

"You know I can't tell you that! Client confidentiality and all that. Now do you want him or will you pay my shipping charges in his place?"

These Spacecabbers made up their own rules and expected everybody else to follow them. They usually did not take on clients with a criminal record though. Only if they paid very well.

"I assume you have screened for weapons?" Dylan asked.

"Am I telling you how to do your job? Of course I screened! Now, what's it to be?"  
The pilot was getting impatient. Tyr thought locking the missiles on him might just give him the general idea, but to his frustration Dylan said: 

"Permission granted."

"Terriffic," the pilot said without a trace of enthusiasm, "Have a nice day."

The transmission ended and Dylan turned to Tyr.

"Do you feel like taking a trip down to the airlock to greet our new guest?"

"On my way."

Tyr checked that his force lance was securely fastened to his belt and made his way to the airlock on the observation deck. 

The inner door opened, letting out some steam. A man stepped into the room and the door shut again behind him. If it had not been for him wearing a short sleeved shirt, thereby letting Tyr observe the obvious fact that he was lacking the bone blades, Tyr would have put money on him being a Nietzschean. He looked to be in his early thirties, he was only an inch or two shorter than Tyr, and not _that_ far off in stature either. He was white, quite pale, but his hair was truly black, tied up at the back, with a single white streak running from his right temple all the way to the ends. But it was more than his physical appearance; it was the way he moved with such nonchalant confidence, the way he looked around in that unimpressed, vigilant way, and most of all it was his gaze. It met Tyr's with such intensity that Tyr instantly knew that he was no plain human. At least no more than Milon was. His eyes were black too. Not dark brown like Tyr's but pure black, like the space between the stars. He did not need to ask this man to introduce himself.

"Would you be Pitch by any chance?" Tyr said.

The man raised his black, knifeshaped eyebrows.

"Who's asking?"

Yes, he had the same accent as Milon. Tyr studied him amusedly, thinking of how Milon had told Tyr how much he reminded him of this man.

"I am Tyr Anazasi, security officer aboard this ship."

"Aha. Where's Milon?"

Straight to the point. Tyr however did not intend to rush things so much.

"Andromeda," Tyr said, "is he armed?"

Rommie's hologram flickered on next to him. She looked Pitch up and down and said:

"He is not carrying any external weapons. I do however detect two sets of cybernetic implants on his upper arms, most likely some kind of strenght enhancing devices. I cannot tell the level at which these implants operate and I am hence unable to determine whether they should be classed as weaponry or not."

"He is a cyborg?"

"No, the extent of his cybernetic implants is not sufficient for that classification. He is human with limited, mechanical enhancements."

Pitch just stood there quiet during the exchange. He did study the hologram of Rommie briefly, but then his eyes returned to Tyr. Tyr could see mistrust and some hostility in his eyes. Pitch repeated:

"Where is Milon? I want to see him."

There was a sharper quality to his voice now. Tyr could see in his eyes that he was beginning to get impatient. Good. Just as he had instantly found there to be something quite pleasant about Milon, he just as instantly disliked this man. It was hard to imagine them as friends. Milon was still sleeping on the medical deck, but Tyr decided not to tell Pitch that just yet.

"Are you listening to me?" Pitch said in a soft, ice-cold voice.

He was staring Tyr in the eyes, and suddenly Tyr could tell that this man was a killer. Maybe not a cold-blooded, remorseless killer, but it was obvious that men had fallen for his hand before. Well, that was another thing they had in common then. Tyr felt wary, all his insticts told him to be careful. There was something in the way he was looking at Tyr that made him feel that this man was more of a threat even than he seemed. Tyr knew that it was completely illogical, not to mention out of character, but he actually felt a little afraid.

"I hear you," Tyr said, "however that does not mean that I am going to entertain your request."

"I'm just asking you where he is! What's your problem?"

"Captain Hunt," Tyr said over the comlink, not breaking eye contact, "the visitor is displaying distinct hostile tendencies. I recommed that we put him in the brig until we have time to deal with his… demands."

"If you think it's necessary," Dylan said.

Tyr drew his gun. Pitch sneered at him, but offered no resistance as Tyr grabbed his arm and started leading him towards the brig.

"You're making a mistake," was all he said.

To Tyr it sounded like enough of a threat to warrant this treatment. 

After having left the… guest in the brig for Dylan to deal with, Tyr made his way back to the medical deck to see if Milon was awake. As he entered, he found that the boy was still sleeping. He stood next to the bed watching him for a short while, contemplating whether to wake him up or not. Then Milon made his decision for him by opening his eyes and yawning.

"Hey Tyr… what's up?"

He sat up and swung his legs over the side, pulling the blanket up around him.

"Are you feeling better now?"

"Yeah. Still a bit tired, but I'll be okay."

Tyr nodded. Then he said:

"You have a visistor."

Milon frowned and looked at him with a question in his eyes.

"Your friend."

"What? What are you talking about Tyr?"

"What is it you call him, Pitch?"

Milon smiled like he thought Tyr was making fun of him, but the smile was sliding off his face like it had been slapped on with cheap glue.

"You're joking, right? He couldn't be here… no way."

"Well, he is. He came on a small shuttle vessel from Earth, just ten minutes ago."

"So… where is he? Why didn't you bring him down here?"

"He displayed hostile tendencies. I put him in the brig."

Suddenly Milon burst out laughing.

"You put Pitch in the brig? Oh, Tyr, way to make an enemy!" 

He was laughing at Tyr? Laughing like Tyr was a child who had done something incredibly comical because he did not know any better. It was making Tyr furious. Strangely enough, his fury was more directed at Pitch than Milon. He was just about to say something harsh, when the door opened and Dylan's voice floated into the room:

"Tyr! Why didn't you tell me the visitor was a friend of Milon's?"

Tyr turned slowly around and saw Dylan and Pitch walking into the room. Dylan was wearing a frown, like Tyr had embarrassed him by having him authorise Pitch's confinement. Tyr supposed he had in a way, but still he did not regret for a second what he had done.

Pitch did not even acknowledge his presence with so much as a look, he just walked over to Milon and looked down on him where he was sitting on the bed. When he spoke to Milon, his voice was light and good-humoured.

"Hey Snowflake, how's it going?"

"What are you doing here?"

Milon sounded like he thought he might be seeing things. He was smiling at Pitch, but there was something hesitant in his face. Tyr stood back and watched the interaction with interest.

"I'm here for the weather stupid, what d'you think?" Pitch said sarcastically.

"But how? How did you find me?"

"Think about it."

"Oh... the coordinates were still in the channeller... but then? How'd you find me from Earth?"

"I asked around... Hey, doesn't matter, does it? I'm here now."

He certainly was. Tyr stepped up to the bed and said to Milon:

"If you feel sufficiently rested, I think it is time that you had that talk with Captain Hunt."

Milon nodded. Dylan, who were standing inside the door, walked forward, saying:

"Well, Milon, I have decided to offer you a place aboard the ship. I think that your skills could be quite valuable in diplomatic negotiations and I would like to see you become our new ship's counsellor."

Milon gave him his most honest smile, the one Tyr knew actually reflected a true feeling. Milon exchanged the briefest of glances with Tyr and said to Dylan:

"Thanks! I really appreciate that. I'd love to stay."

"Great!" Dylan said, looking even more pleased with himself than ususally.

Then he turned around and walked out of the room. Tyr suddenly happened to catch a glimpse of Pitch's face. It was like chiseled out of ice, the twin circles of blackness that passed for his eyes looked like they might actually cause Milon some puncture wounds.

"What are you playing at?" he asked quietly.

"Pitch... I'm not going back there. I can't... please understand."

Milon had a pleading look on his face, as if he had to ask permission like a little child. It grated on Tyr's nerves. He had seen how ferocious the boy could be, he did not like this submissive streak in him.

"Understand? What, that you wanna stay with this circus? On my way down here I saw a purple chick! For god's sake Miles, purple! And what's the deal with that guy's arms?"

He made a sideways nod in Tyr's direction. Tyr felt a dark, angry, rumbling sound work its way up his throat. Pitch turned his head and stared at him with a scornful look on his face.

"You're growling at me? What they call you, Dober-Man?"

"I am a Nietzschean!" 

Tyr took a couple of long steps towards him.

"What's that, a cross between a Neanderthal and an Alsatian?"

"Pitch!"

Milon gave up a shocked laugh. Tyr did not understand the full reference, but he understood that Pitch had just insulted him in the grossest, and that was really all he needed to know. He went to grab a hold of him, but Milon flew off the bed and threw himself in the way, hindering Tyr, although he could barely stand.

"Hey! Let's not, okay? Tyr, I'm sorry, he's rude!"

He punched Pitch on the shoulder in mock reproach. Pitch just laughed and threw his arm around Milon's shoulder in a friendly gesture. He was not asked to remove it. Completely ignoring Tyr he said:

"Miles, listen to me, EterniVision's gone. Your contract's gone. You don't have to take off to the other side of the universe... Besides, you're not well yet. Not really." 

"I'm fine. I mean it Pitch, I'm not going back there." 

Milon looked into his friend's eyes. Then Pitch let him go, shook his head and said:

"You haven't got a choice. Mel is gonna pull us out tomorrow... you've been gone a week from home, so I guess however long you've been here, divided by seven, that's how long you've got left."

"I'm not going."

"Miles, I've come a very fucking long way to get you, and you give me this shit?"

"I'm sorry..."

Milon lowered his eyes. Pitch shook his head angrily. Tyr felt like grabbing him by the throat and throwing him out the nearest airlock. But it was none of his business.

Pitch turned around and started walking towards the door. Tyr made a move to stop him. Not because he wanted him to stay and talk to Milon, but because he was definitely not about to let this stranger roam around unattended in the corridors. However, Milon beat him to it. He blocked Pitch's way, staring at him in an almost panicky fashion. 

"No! You can't do this! You've no right to do this!" he shouted.

"It's already done. You know how it works."  
"Yes and I know I don't have to go! When the rift opens, I'm not going through!"

He was reminding Tyr even more of a rebellious child, the way he was standing with his hands knotted into fists at his side even though it looked like his legs might fail him any second. Why did he act like this? Why not simply do what he had said and not go through when the time came? Pitch looked at him coldly and said:

"Then I'll make you."

He pushed Milon aside and continued towards the door. Milon reached out, desperately, and grabbed his shoulder. Pitch spun around, his hand raised to strike. Tyr could see the smallest flinch in Milon's stance, but he did not really recoil however and Pitch stopped his hand before it hit the target. It seemed to take a lot of self control.

"No!" Milon said, but Tyr could hear more pleading than resolution in his voice.

Milon tried to take a step towards Pitch, but his legs would not carry him anymore and gave way. Tyr quickly stepped forward and caught him before he hit the floor.

"You are going back in bed right now," Tyr said, scooping him up.

"I'm fine," Milon tried, "put me down..."

He did not sound fine. Tyr lay him down on the bed and stepped back. Pitch walked over to the bed with a hint of concern on his face.

"Miles," Pitch was back to using his soft voice, "Mel and Jo miss you. Everyone does. The company is going down the toilet, which is great, but it's just not the same when you're not there to enjoy it with us…"

"Don't," Milon said, "I can tell when you're doing it. It won't work, not this time…"

Tyr could not help wondering what it was he could tell was being done to him.

"Maybe we can talk about this in private?" Pitch said with a not-so-subtle glance at Tyr.

"I don't know..." Milon started, but was interrupted by Rommie's voice over the speakers:

"Tyr, please report to the Command deck."

She always picked the best of times. Tyr frowned but after a moment's hesitation left and made his way upstairs.

The Vertex was still hanging immobile in the sky at a distance, shining like a star when the Sun's rays hit the hull. They had received no further hails and no more attacks had come. Still, it was obvious that there must still be some people onboard. Tyr had not seen Morgan in the warehouse, and Lillian had mention about five hundred of her people had crossed over. Up until now they had only seen about fifty or so. The rest must be on the ship. 

"I don't like the way they're just sitting there," Beka said, "It's like they're waiting for something."

"Maybe they're trying to rebuild the machine and come after Milon again," Dylan answered.

"We should shoot them down once and for all," Tyr muttered.

"It's too dangerous," Dylan said, "An unprovoked attack would not be a good idea, especially if they don't know we have Milon on the ship." 

"So what do you suggest? That we ignore them and leave?"

"No... they're planning something... I'm just not sure what it is yet." 

"So we're just going to sit around here and wait then?" Beka said, "Well, I suppose I could get used to the idea of a little unscheduled holiday!"

"We also have the new... problem to attend to," Tyr reminded them.

"You mean Pitch? Yes, he is certainly complicating matters somewhat. Although he did tell me that he would be 'pulled out' shortly, back to his own dimension. I suppose that means that we might lose Milon as well..."

Dylan scratched his chin and looked like he was deep in thought. The realisation dawned on Tyr and he punched his fist into the palm of his hand, cursing himself for not having seen it immediately:

"That is what they are waiting for! When the portal between the dimensions open, they will almost certainly try to get through!"

"Of course! Tyr, get Pitch, we have to find out exactly when this is going to happen!"

Sure. Tyr could do that. Most definitely. And if Dylan decided to hold this Pitch character at least partly responsible for the great danger they might just be put in, that would not be so bad either. Tyr made his way down to the medical deck.

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	14. The worst is worth waiting for

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Interlude:

He wasn't going back. Pitch couldn't make him. No way, those days were over. He would do what it took to make sure he wasn't pushed back into the hands of EterniVision. Pitch might say they were gone, but that could be another trick. He had also said that Melissa would pull them out the next day. But two days had passed and no rift had opened in the veil. Dylan was certainly getting edgy at this stage. And Tyr and Pitch got along about as well as a cat and a dog in a bag full of nails. It might have been quite funny if he hadn't been able to feel the tension building every time they were in the same room. Like some kind of chemical reaction building up to one big explosion. It was going to happen, and soon.

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Chapter Fourteen: The worst is worth waiting for

The atmosphere on the ship was tense. It was like the close, heavy feeling on a hot day waiting for a thunderstorm to break out. The Vertex had not made a move. There was no sign of any 'crossing over' of any kind. Several times, Tyr had suggested that they shoot the enemy ship down and be done with it, but Dylan and Rommie refused to see sense. They spent most of their days in command, staring at the little dot, wondering what they were planning. Insanity.

Tyr had not seen much of Milon since Pitch showed up. He was out of medical, that much was sure. Tyr had also tried to convince the captain that letting Pitch roam around the ship at his leisure was a very bad idea, but again, he had not been listened to. All these factors were starting to eat away at his patience. This could not go on much longer.

Eventually Tyr found Milon standing by the window on the observations deck. Alone. Not that he had really been looking for him. Not actively at least. Moving quietly, more out of old habit this time than trying to sneak up on the boy, Tyr approached the lone figure. He expected Milon to say something or at least acknowledge his presence, but Milon did not move, and so Tyr had to speak first.

"Admiring the view?" he said.

Milon jumped a little and spun around, apparently Tyr had taken him by surprise. Maybe because he had not been trying. Maybe because Milon had been deep in thought.

"Hi. You sneaking up on me again?"

"No."

Tyr was uncomfortably aware of the fact that Milon would be able to sense his feelings now, as he was back to full health. Still, Tyr refused to let such things influence him.

"How come you are still here," Tyr asked, "I thought you were supposed to be brought back to your own dimension?"

"I'm not going anywhere. I don't know why the port hasn't opened. Maybe they've got problems. Maybe they can't get a fix on the co-ordinates when we're up in space."  
"Does your friend have some kind of transmitter?"

"Yeah, I guess. Normally, it was always the cameras. Kept track of us, sent the co-ordinates back. But now... yeah, I guess he must have some kind of tracking device. You think I should get it? Destroy it?"

Milon's eyes lit up with a mischievous gleam. He did not really mean it. Tyr knew he would not sabotage his friend's chances of getting back home. It was just not his style.

"That would mean that Pitch would be stuck here. I have to say I am against the idea."  
Milon laughed.

"You two really hate each other, don't ya? You're just too alike."  
Tyr shook his head. He did not appreciate being compared to their black-eyed guest. Which reminded him:

"Milon, I need to ask you a few questions about your... friend."

Milon got a slightly uncomfortable look on his face, but nodded as if to say that he understood why Tyr thought he needed to know.

"He is a Genie, like you, yes?"

"Yeah, he's a Genie. Not like me. He's darkness."

"And what... abilities does that bring?"

Milon smiled again, a little nervous smile. 

"He won't like me telling you this... One darkness Gelf, that's what Genies' powers are called, is 'solid darkness'. I know it sounds silly, I mean how can darkness be solid, it's just the absence of light, right? But I guess it's some kind of magic force. He can sort of conjure it out of nothing and it disappears into nothing. But when it's there, it's like this really strong substance... strong like a rope is strong. Bendy. You'd have to see it, I guess."

Tyr was fairly certain he did not want to see it.

"Anything else?"

Milon looked out the window again. Tyr waited patiently. He had learned that it usually was worthwhile being patient with Milon. Trying to push him would just result in defiance. Tyr could relate to that.

"Well..." Milon said eventually, "he can charm people."

"What is that supposed to mean?"

Tyr could not think of anybody off the top of his head that would appear any _less_ charming than Pitch.

"It means... he can persuade you. Make you feel... co-operative. Or intimidate you."

Ah. That explained things. Why Tyr had felt that nagging, annoying, feeling of anxiety when he had spoken to Pitch by the airlock that time. Tyr had thought it very strange, he was usually not afraid of anything. But he had, nonetheless, felt something. And now he knew why. 

"I see."

"Don't tell him I told you. He doesn't like people knowing about him."

"Why would he come all this way to get you?"

"I dunno. I guess he just wants me to come back. He always came to get me. Always."

Tyr recalled the conversation between Pitch and Milon on the medical deck earlier. How Milon had acted around him, almost submissively, begging Pitch to let him stay. It had bothered Tyr then, and it still bothered him now. Their whole relationship bothered him. He knew it was none of his business, but still he asked:

"Are you two... involved?"

Milon looked at him for a second, like he did not understand what Tyr meant. Then he laughed out loud.

"What? Oh my god, no! You thought... no, no, no! He's my big brother."

"You said you had no family."

"Obviously not biologically! I guess at some point we just... kinda adopted each other. I mean he always looked out for me. In his own way."

"Hmm."

Tyr stared out at the stars, still with that nagging feeling of discontent. Maybe it was just all this waiting around. The uncertainty and the frustration of not getting to do battle with their enemy. He suddenly became aware that Milon was looking at him with an amused look on his face.

"What?" Tyr asked.

"Nothing. Are you bored? You wanna do some training or something?"

"Are you sure you are fully recovered?"

Milon gave him that total smile again.

"Trying to get out of it? C'mon, I'm sure you've got some tricks you can teach me..."

Tyr felt a very reluctant smile struggle to break free on his lips. It was true though, the only other person on board who could even begin to give Tyr a run for his money was Dylan, and he was so busy staring out at the motionless dot that was the Vertex that he had no time for training.

"Okay," Tyr said, which was not a phrase he was known to use often, "We will see what you need to learn. But if you use your light power, I walk."

"Alright. I'll play fair if you will."

After days of impatient sitting around, Tyr welcomed the friendly sparring. Milon really was incredibly agile, he avoided most of Tyr's attacks, and the ones he could not dodge, he blocked, miraculously enough without cutting himself on Tyr's bone blades. Tyr could go all out, not having to hold back, and that felt good. They were very evenly matched, Tyr found. Milon did not get many hits through on him, and the few he did receive were not hard enough to really cause much pain. All in all, it was an enjoyable game more than anything else.

Eventually though, Milon got careless and cut it a bit too close. Tyr managed to get a grip on his arm, and he was not letting go. Holding on tight, Tyr put his forearm across Milon's throat and forced him backwards. He might be risking another blinding flare of light, but somehow the expression on Milon's face told him that he was not intimidated this time, but recognised it as pure training. So Tyr decided to take his chances in taking the fight from the unarmed stage. Milon was bending backwards, almost like he was trying to duck under Tyr's arm, but Tyr followed his movement forwards, keeping the sharp bones against the vulnerable skin under Milon's chin. Milon dropped to his knees, but he still looked far from defeated. Tyr followed again, putting one knee on the ground and leaning forward, forcing the young man to lean back. He would have to give in now! Tyr still had an iron grip around his left arm and the bone blades were almost drawing blood. Why was he not surrendering? Why did he not call the fight off? Then, suddenly it became apparent to Tyr why Milon had been so willing to kneel for him. A glimmer of triumph appeared in the boy's green eyes, and Tyr saw a flash of steel in the hand which had been empty a second ago. Milon made a arc-like movement behind Tyr's back. A chill shot down Tyr's spine. He had time to expect the burning of a knife's tip being buried in his neck, and then he found out what Milon's real plan had been as his vision was suddenly obscured when his own braids came falling down into his face. Milon had simply cut the few strands of hair that was holding together the rest of them. Blinded again, Tyr could not see to avoid the manoeuvre as something, most likely Milon's knee, hit him under the chin. His teeth slammed together and his head was thrown backwards, his body following the movement enough for Milon to be able to put his foot squarely against Tyr's chest and kick. Tyr was pushed backwards and landed on his back. The whole thing had taken less than two seconds. Milon was on top of him before he had a chance to roll out of the way. 

"Thought you had me there? You're too full of yourself."

He was teasing, but Tyr agreed; he would have to stop underestimating this... man. Milon was smiling at him, of course, but the tip of his knife still rested in the hollow under Tyr's chin. When Tyr remained quiet, Milon said:

"So, what're you waiting for?"

"What do you mean?"

"Say it! Say you give up, that I beat you, the fight is over. You know, until you do, I can't let you go or you'll try and get back at me. You'd say something like 'never assume that the fight is over until your opponent is dead' or something equally lecturing, but it's really just an excuse to cheat, isn't it? I know your type, you're sneaky."

"And you are very clever," Tyr admitted.

"Ah yeah, flattery will get you everywhere. But you're trying to wriggle out of it. You know what I wanna hear."

"The fight is over."

"And?"

Oh, this boy liked to push his luck. Tyr's skin was virtually crawling with reluctancy to give him what he wanted. Admit defeat to someone so young, so much smaller, so... playful. He was not even taking this seriously, combat seemed like a game to him. To Tyr it was a vital part of surviving. He had not trained all his life only to be taken down for some human's amusement.

"Get off me, boy."

"What was it you said to me in that warehouse? 'Do you really think you're in a position to negotiate?' Much less be giving me any orders..."

He was still just playing, there was no hardness in his voice and his green eyes were sparkling with good humour. Still, there was nothing Tyr wanted more right now than to put him in his place. He did not claim to know Milon completely yet, but he was almost certain that the boy had no wishes to hurt him for real. And those lightning fast reflexes might serve in his favour, ensuring that he was not seriously hurt. He decided to risk it. Putting his neck on the line, literally, as it were. 

Moving fast, but not as fast as he possibly could, he wanted Milon to have time to react, he grabbed the wrist of the hand that was holding the knife and wrenched it away from him. Just as he had thought, Milon made no attempt at cutting him. He actually pulled the knife away from Tyr's throat slightly as Tyr closed his fist around his arm. Oh yes, Tyr had made a completely accurate assessment of his character. And he had him now.

Using a little more strength than necessary, Tyr threw Milon off and swapped places with him, slamming the boy's hand against the floor, sending the knife sliding across the room. He had him completely pinned down and he did not even have to use much force. But Milon was just looking calmly at him.

"Cheating! You said the fight was over."

"I lied," Tyr said with a smile.

"Oh my god, that's such a cheap trick!" Milon laughed, "You don't really expect that to count, do you? You're freaking out 'cause I took you! Admit it! You're a sore loser!"

He was bubbling with laughter, like they were children playing or something. The worst thing was that it was contagious. Tyr could feel his smile widening, even though he was trying to fight it. 

"I am not a sore loser! In fact, I am not a loser at all."

"Well, it's not hard to win if you _cheat_!"

Milon was not struggling to get free. He just lay there, laughing. This was the strangest training Tyr had ever experienced.

"So I presume you are giving up?" Tyr said.

"Well, I can say I do and then get you in the back... oh, say tomorrow. Seeing as those are the rules now all of a sudden!"

Well, this was going nowhere. Tyr could sit here for the rest of the day and not talk Milon into surrendering. So that left only two options. Either he could simply let him go and call it even, or he could employ more forceful methods of persuasion. But he could not really bring himself to hurt the boy, and he did not feel quite ready to stoop to the same childish level as Milon and tickle him until he gave up, and that left him quite lost for forceful methods of persuasion. He was just about to get up when he heard a voice behind him:

"What the hell are you doing?"

He turned his head and saw Pitch staring back at him with his 'creepy black eyes' like Harper had put it. But Harper had also said that he 'seemed to be a pretty cool guy actually', and that Tyr did not agree with. Tyr wondered briefly which of them he was speaking to, but then Milon said:

"We were training. He was cheating."

Tyr shook his head and stood up. Milon got to his feet too, and retrieved his knife from the floor. Tyr folded his arms across his chest and said:

"I did not cheat. And you need to improve your strength, I could hardly feel those punches."

"Maybe I was holding back?"

"I doubt it."

Pitch was apparently getting tired of being ignored, because he took a couple of steps into the room, looking at Tyr like he was evaluating him.

"You really have to cheat to beat Miles? He's half your size!" Pitch said amusedly.

Tyr only gave him a contemptuous look. Milon faked an insulted expression and said:

"Hey! Size isn't everything! Besides, I'm not 'half his size'. And I can still take you!"

Pitch just smiled at him, like he was proud of him or something, and said:

"I know you can, Snowflake."

Then the hardness returned to his face as he looked at Tyr once again.

"So, guess your captain don't think I'm a 'security hazard' after all. Must be tough to realise no-one's listening to you."

"You tell me. Milon does not seem too keen to accompany you back home..."

Pitch's eyes sparkled with anger. Tyr knew that he must have a similar expression on his own face. They stared eachother out for a while, the silence heavy in the room. Tyr wanted nothing more than punch the other man in the face, but he forced himself to keep calm. Then Pitch said:

"So, fancy your chances against someone your own size then? I could go for a bit of alien ass-kicking right about now."

"You are challenging me?"

"Hey! Not as dumb as you look, are ya?"

Well, it seemed like Tyr was going to get his wish after all. He shook his head slowly, teeth clenched, then moved as fast as he could, launching his fist in a punch to Pitch's chin. It connected with a satisfying thud, and Pitch's head snapped back. Tyr could see blood on his mouth and it made him feel so much better. Then a fist came flying at his own face, too fast for him to avoid. His face went numb; his head rang with the impact. Maybe it was those cybernetic implants, but one thing was sure, that man packed some punch. Tyr would have to concentrate a bit more on his defence.

It was not far off a real fight between real enemies. They were clearly both aiming for some serious pain. To Tyr's disappointment, Pitch seemed quite able to hold his own. His style was completely different from Milon's acrobatics; this was more straightforward hand-to-hand. Which was fine. But he was not as fast as Milon either, and Tyr soon managed to get behind him and put his arm around his throat, cutting off his air supply. Tyr threw a quick glance at Milon, who was standing against the wall, watching them with an expression of worry. But which of them was he worrying about? Tyr half expected him to say something, but before he had a chance, Tyr heard the sickening crunch of breaking bone, and a sharp pain shot up the arm he had around Pitch's throat. He roared and was forced to let go. The bastard had broken one of his bone blades! A circle of blood on his arm was the only sign of where it had been. Yes, it would grow back, but that was not the point!

"Hey, not a bad trophy, eh?" Pitch said with a self-satisfied smile.

Tyr could feel a red mist, for the lack of a better cliché, descend over his mind. This was supposed to be training. Pitch had just turned it into life and death. He threw himself at Pitch, the two remaining bone blades on his arm aimed straight for his throat. Suddenly, something black shot out of Pitch's hand and enveloped Tyr's arm like a sheet of thick rubber. More of the black stuff shot out to wrap itself around his neck, tightening until he could not breathe. He tore uselessly at it, but it was as strong as steel cables, there was no way he could break it.

"Stop it!"

Milon was suddenly between them, making a downward slashing motion with one glowing white hand. The light cut through the sticky black stuff easily, and Tyr could breath again as the choking substance disappeared.

"What the hell are you trying to do, kill each other?" Milon shouted.

He was pushed aside, Tyr did not know which of them did it. All he knew was the rage inside him. They flew at each other's throats again, but just as they were about to make contact, everything went white. Blinded, all Tyr could do was stand still.

"What is wrong with you two? What's the fucking story? You're supposed to be on the same side!"

Milon sounded really upset. Tyr was slowly starting to make out something besides the huge spots. He could see Pitch trying to clear his vision, and Milon standing in between them, holding them apart. He looked so small compared to the two of them. Tyr noticed that he was still emitting a faint glow, like a low wattage lightbulb.

"No more fighting! If you try anything else I swear I'll blind the both of you for good! You hear me?"

Before anybody had time to speak, the door opened and Beka came in. She looked at the three angry faces for a second and then she said:

"What happened to your arm?"

Tyr just growled. The blood was dripping steadily from the spot where his missing bone blade had been. He was going to kill Pitch, just wait. Beka must have seen the way he was looking at Pitch too, because she turned her head in Pitch's direction and said in an upset voice:

"You promised! You told me you wouldn't get into a fight with Tyr! Did you listen to anything I said?"

Pitch just shrugged his shoulders and smiled at her.

"Relax darling, it was just a bit of training! He was the one who wanted to lose the gloves, honest!"

Darling? Why wasn't she slapping him in the face? Why was she smiling, even if it was reluctantly? Tyr could hear Milon muttering something that sounded just like 'oh, great'. Then Milon grabbed a hold of Tyr's bleeding arm. Tyr's first reaction was to pull free, he was wounded, maybe not seriously, but he had never liked anybody else touching his injuries. Milon's touch was gentle though, and the stinging, annoying pain eased under his hands. When he removed them after about a minute, Tyr's wound had healed into a pale scar. For a second Tyr actually forgot about Pitch and Beka and the strangely disturbing way they looked at each other.

"You did not have to do that, my nanobots would have taken care of it," he said, but then added, "Although I am impressed... thank you."

"C'mon, let's go..." Pitch said to Beka, and to Tyr's surprise she just smiled and nodded and left with him. 

"Do they know each other?" Tyr asked, feeling rather stupid and hating every minute of it.

"I'd say they do now..." Milon just answered evasively.

Then his empathy must have picked up on just how much hatred Tyr was feeling for Pitch because he looked up at Tyr with a worried, almost pleading look on his face.

"Tyr... please just ignore him. I know asking the two of you to get along is too much, but can you please just... not do anything rash? Like getting him killed?"

Tyr frowned. He was not used to letting anybody come between him and people he wanted to kill. But it seemed strangely hard to say no to Milon.

"I can't make any promises..." he muttered.

"But I want you to. Promise. Promise you won't do any...."

He was suddenly interrupted by Rommie's voice over the speakers.

"All personnel report to the bridge. We are under attack."

And then the alarm went off.

"Here we go again," Milon said, and then they were off running. Again.

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	15. D.I.Y

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Chapter Fifteen: D.I.Y

"What' the hell is going on?" Pitch shouted as they reached the bridge.

"The Vertex. They're attacking us," Dylan answered.

"The what now?"

Pitch gave Milon a questioning look, but before he had a chance to explain, the ship was rocked by another explosion.

"This is getting old..." Beka muttered as she rapidly keyed in a series of commands into the console in front of her.

"I agree," Dylan said, "I have had enough of this. Open fire."

"Allow me..."

Tyr stepped up to the gun controls and locked the missiles on the Vertex. It was time to put an end to this nonsense once and for all. He sent off a generous chain of missiles, aimed straight for the hull of the other ship. Unfortunately, they did not quite reach their target; they exploded before making contact.

"They have some kind of shield up, a big one," Beka said.

"I can see that," Tyr snapped. 

He really did not need her stating the obvious right now. From the corner of his eye, he could see her turn and exchange a look with Pitch. Tyr hit the fire button with his fist, sending off another round. They did not reach the ship either. It was useless.

"They're deploying a shuttle," Dylan said, "it's heading straight for us."

"I have them."

Changing the target for the smaller vessel, Tyr fired again. It was a good aim, and the missile went straight for the shuttle. It exploded in a satisfying cloud of fire and debris. 

"Nice shooting," Beka said, but Tyr did not even have time to say something patronising before Rommie's hologram came on the screen.

"A second shuttle is coming in off the bow. It is too close for me to get a lock on."

Damn. The first one had obviously been a decoy, Tyr realised that now. And there was that telltale thump of the shuttle docking rather hastily with the Andromeda. They were boarding them again.

"Airlock three," Rommie said, "I'm getting a reading of fifteen people."

"Fifteen, they're really cramming them in, aren't they?" Beka said.

"Go!" Dylan called. 

It was time to do the running thing again.

The battle was much worse than last time. It did not help either that the Vertex kept firing on them, even though they had their own people on board. Obviously it was designed to destroy their weapons and their slip stream drive. Tyr could only hope that they were not prepared to sacrifice their own crewmembers. A second shuttle had attached itself to the Andromeda's hull; Tyr did not even know how many people had been on board it. Right now, the enemy seemed to be everywhere. The corridors were full of smoke, bodies and broken, flashing lights. Tyr had lost sight of the others shortly after they had engaged the enemy in battle. Now he was running through the ship, dodging force beams coming out of every shadowy corner. It was a mess, and it showed no signs of letting up.

Tyr was not sure exactly how long he had been fighting, but eventually, he found himself back on the observation deck where the fight had started. It was like running into a pause. Apart from three corpses, the room was empty and it was silent. Tyr's eyes fell on the huge window, the stars outside. So peaceful. But what was that?

It came first like a shimmering, like the heat haze left in the trail of an open engine. The stars were blurred, and then... shifted. Only slightly, but Tyr saw it clearly. His first thought was of some kind of cloaking device, but that was not what it was. Too big for a start. 

"Andromeda, what is that?" he asked out into thin air.

"I don't know," came the answer, "I'm getting a massive energy reading from it."

The ship moved away from the strange phenomenon. A wise decision, Tyr thought. Whatever it was, he did not want to get too close to it.

Suddenly, he heard the sound of gunfire from one of the connecting corridors. Clutching his forcelance, he carefully made his way into the corridor. Sparks were flying from severed cables, and the smoke was thick enough to block out anything that was further away than about ten metres. There was a scream and the dull thud as a body hit the ground. Tyr raised the forcelance and stepped around the corner, ready to fire.

"Hey! Don't shoot, it's me!"

Milon was holding his hands up. Tyr lowered the forcelance and looked at him. He did not appear to be injured. There was a small smear of dirt and blood on his face, but that could easily be from someone else. He was holding his knife; the blade was covered in blood. Amazing how he had managed to stay alive in a firefight armed only with that primitive weapon. Well, good for him.

"Have you seen what is happening outside?" Tyr asked.

"No... what?"

"Some kind of cosmic disturbance. I was wondering, could it possibly be your... portal opening?"

"I'm sure it could."

Milon looked around nervously, vigilantly. 

"Here, take this."

Tyr pulled his spare gun out of the holster and handed it to Milon. He quickly pointed out the most important features, the safety, the reload button and how to aim.

"Ah, Tyr, you shouldn't have!" Milon smiled, turning the gun over in his hand.

It was obvious that he was joking again, and in the middle of a battle and all. Tyr was just about to say something about the importance of staying alert when Milon, without warning, fired his gun right over Tyr's shoulder. Tyr spun around just in time to see the attacker fall to the floor, a smoking hole right between his eyes. And Milon had said he had never handled a firearm before?

"I thought you said you had no experience with guns?" Tyr said, mostly because he felt he had to say something.

"I don't. You must be a very good teacher..." Milon said cheerily, "Besides, it's simple, just aim and shoot."

"Yes, that is usually the basic principle of any gun," Tyr said sarcastically.

Still, he felt a strange sense of pride. Unjustified, but still.

"Follow me."

They started off down the corridor, following the distant sound of gunfire. Suddenly Tyr heard Harper's voice over the comlink:

"Um, Tyr? Are you there?"

"Yes, what do you want?"

"You're near the machine shop, aren't you?"  
"Fairly near, why?"

"Could you... bring Milon down here? There's this thing I want to check..."  
What was he up to now? Before Tyr had time to dwell on it too much, a shot came out of the smoke, missing them with a narrow margin. Returning fire, they started backing down the corridor towards the machine shop.

"So what is it you wanted to check?"

The door of the machine shop slid shut behind them. Harper was squatting on the ground next to some machine or other, sparks flying from his nano welder. As Tyr and Milon entered he jumped up and pulled the welding goggles up onto his head.

"Alright. Okay. I'll tell you what I think. I think that big, nasty rift that has opened up out there is in fact a portal into another dimension. And not just any dimension, your dimension," he said to Milon.

"Yeah. Probably."

Milon did not seem too bothered. Maybe he had already severed all his ties to his home. After what they had done to him, Tyr could not say he blamed him.

"Which means that the Vertex will most likely try to go through. And then your Earth will be in some serious trouble... so all in all, I need to ask you a couple of questions."

"Ask away."

"Is the fissure in the fabric of space specifically tuned to the energy signatures of the person or persons which is was initiated to transport, or is it a general breach of the dimensional wall which any living or inanimate thing can pass through without any additional recalibrations to their mass?"

"Yeah," Milon laughed, "the second one."

"A free for all. Great."

Tyr stood by the door, watching as Harper tinkered with his new machine. As he worked, he explained his plan to them:

"They're gonna try and go through. Probably would have already, if they weren't so busy trying to take over the Andromeda. Of course, we're not gonna let them take our ship, and when they realise that they will use that portal, I bet my last beer on it. We don't want that, right? It'd be bad for the people of Milon's world. But, what if we could send them somewhere else? Into a dimension where they couldn't do any damage? Back to where they came from!"

"You mean, change the co-ordinates of the channeller on the far side?" Milon said with a frown.

"Exactly!"

"But how are you going to know what to change them to? And how?"

"Yeah, that's the thing. I kept a few scraps and circuits from that machine you totalled back on earth, and I'm glad I did. Amazing what you can learn from going through the trash these days! I have already managed to pick up the co-ordinates from the opposite side of the rift. Wasn't easy, but hey, I'm brilliant! What I need now is our own co-ordinates, where the rift opened _to._ Once I have those, I'm fairly sure I can work out the sequence. Did you know that everyone carries a molecular trace signature from their dimension? Well, neither did I, until today! But when you did your light flare thing in the gym that time, it blinded Rommie's sensors. Not because it was too bright or anything, but simply because the energy signature was completely different from anything she was ever calibrated to handle. Because you're not from the same dimension as us. I've been working on it since, and I know a bit about how it works, but I need a second point of reference, obviously, but basically I can replicate the machine and..."

The endless stream of words showed no sign of ending any time soon. How many times was it now that Tyr had suppressed the urge of roaring 'Short version!' at Harper? Milon just stood there, listening patiently. Well, let them work it out. There were enemies out there, just waiting to be killed. Tyr turned and was just about to open the door when Harper ran up to him and said:

"Tyr! I still need you to do something for me. I would ask Milon to go, but I need him for the channeller."

"Yes?" Tyr asked irritated.

"You know the transmitter that Rommie said that Milon said to you that Pitch had?"

"Get to the point."

"Can you get it?"

Tyr felt the anger turn into anticipation. He almost smiled at Harper.

"No problems. I will get it for you."

He turned to exit the room again, but was interrupted once more.

"Tyr?" Milon called from across the room.

Tyr met his eyes, knowing what he was going to say.

"Please don't hurt him."

Tyr did not answer, simply turned around and left. It was time to go hunting.


	16. Things worth saving

A/N: Ooh, we're nearing the end! Seems like this thing might actually be finished soon! If anyone has any requests for things that need to happen before the end, now would be the time to suggest them and I'll see what I can do. Within reason, people, within reason! Oh, and any wishes for Pitch dying / getting beaten up / having an unfortunate accident whilst playing too close to the airlock will be turned a blind eye to, thank you very much! :-P... so there!

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Chapter Sixteen: Things worth saving

Tyr made his way though the corridors, almost casually shooting down enemies. Rommie had given him Pitch's location, and it was not far to go. As a matter of fact, he was already there. Tyr stepped around the corner, aiming his forcelance at the back of the momentarily unsuspecting man. Pitch was firing off a couple of shots in the direction he was facing and then he spun around and spotted Tyr.

"Hey! Don't be aiming that thing at me, you crazy alien bastard!" he said.

Tyr's trigger finger itched at the mere sound of his voice.

"You have a transmitter for the channeller," Tyr said, "I want it."

"Fuck off! Pitch laughed scornfully.

If Tyr had been certain that he was carrying the device on him, he could have just shot him right then and there and searched his body. But he might have left it somewhere, even hidden it. Tyr did not have the luxury of killing him right now. Even though Pitch was displaying every sign of hostility towards Tyr, he still was not pointing the gun he was carrying at him. Maybe he was arrogant, but at least he was not stupid.

"Where is it?" Tyr asked icily.

"You really think I'd tell you?" Pitch sneered, "What, do you think we wanna stay here forever? I'm going home, and I'm taking Milon with me. You're not gonna stop me."

"You do not seem to be in a position where you have a choice," Tyr said, still aiming his weapon squarely at Pitch's face as he walked up to him.

"What are you gonna do, shoot me? Miles'd kill you for it, trust me. You just try something, and you'll find out soon enough where his loyalties lie. He knows I look out for him."

Tyr just stared at him coldly.

"Are you operating under some delusion that you are protecting him? From what? From me?"

"I know your type. You wanna use him, just like all the rest. You think it'll be easy, you think he's trusting, and maybe he is, but he'll get wide to you sooner or later and then god help you! I know Miles a long time; he's not as soft as he looks. As a matter of fact," Pitch smiled spitefully, "he tried to kill me before. What chance do you think you stand?"

His black eyes were glittering coldly; he really believed what he was saying. But Tyr had had enough of his insane ramblings. He raised his voice:

"I have no time for your childish jealousy! I need the transmitter and you are going to give it to me, one way or another!"

Suddenly, Tyr caught a movement in the corridor behind Pitch. An enemy soldier, and he was pointing his gun straight towards them. The urge to grab Pitch and use him as a human shield was overwhelming. Tyr told himself again that he needed him alive to find the transmitter, but the truth was that he could still hear Milon's voice in his head. 'Don't get him killed.' 'Don't hurt him.' 'Please.' Tyr sighed inwardly and then pushed Pitch out of the way, firing a rapid series of shots into the smoke. A short scream was heard as the enemy was hit. Pitch gave Tyr a suspicious look, like he had just done something very strange. An explosion rocked the ship and then a voice was heard.

"Tyr?" 

It was Harper again, over the comlink.

"Yes?"

"Have you got that thing we talked about yet? I hate to stress you out; it's just that the rift seems to be breaking up a bit. I don't think we have much time left.

"What's that?" Pitch asked sharply, "what rift?"

"A portal between the dimensions. The one you were waiting for. The only problem is that it is out there and you are in here. Of course, you could borrow a space suit and take your chances..." Tyr said.

Pitch just stared at him, angrily. Yes, Tyr felt better now.

"Or, you could give me the transmitter and give Harper a chance to do something about the situation."

Pitch seemed to realise at last that he had lost. He was not going to get back home, with or without Milon, unless he cooperated with them. He was still staring at Tyr with his black, angry eyes, but eventually he said:

"So where's Harper?"

"Give me the transmitter."

"Not a hope. I'll come with you and see what he has to say."

Tyr was not in the mood for negotiating, especially not with Pitch, but Harper must have been listening over the link still, because he shouted:

"Yeah, whatever, just get here! We don't have all day!"

"Follow me." 

Tyr started heading back to the machine shop but he had not taken more than five steps when another energy beam shot out of the smoke. Then another one, from the opposite direction. All of a sudden they were caught in crossfire. The Vertexans must somehow be able to listen in on their communications. That would explain how they always seemed to know where they were going. 

Tyr returned fire best he could, but they were too many of them, and the smoke was too thick to see. When the coast seemed clear, Tyr made a dash for the next room. Too late did he realise that he had missed one of the shooters. There was a noise from the adjoining corridor he had just passed. Tyr spun around, only to see the attacker get hit by an energy beam from Pitch's gun, right in the chest. Tyr stared at Pitch, who looked back at him, now with a slightly amused look in his eyes.

"What? You think just 'cause I hate you means I don't have your back?"

Tyr just stared at him. Then another explosion, the biggest so far, rocked the ship and sent them both tumbling to the ground. Pitch's gun was thrown out of his hand and as the ship tilted, it slid away across the floor, down one of the access hatches. They scrambled to their feet, but before he had time to collect himself, another shot came out of nowhere, hitting Tyr right in the stomach. He fell for the second time, firing his forcelance as he did. The attacker was hit. The gunfire ceased. Everything went quiet, except for the occasional sparks from the torn up electrical cables. Tyr felt the pain flaring up as his body started to realise what had happened. He pressed his hands to his stomach and felt the warm, sticky wet feeling of way too much blood leaving his body. He opened his mouth to call out to someone over the comlink, but realised that it would only betray his location to the enemies. Pitch just stood there, looking down on him calmly.

"Go to the machine shop," Tyr whispered hoarsely.

It might not be of any use, but Tyr could not think of anything else to say. Pitch nodded shortly and then stooped to pick up Tyr's fallen forcelance. Tyr grabbed his wrist and hissed:

"That's electrically protected. Touch it and you'll get fried!"

"I need a weapon. I'll never make it there unarmed."

"Well, where did you get the other one?"

"Beka gave it to me. You can't use the enemies' guns either, they have some kind of personal lock on them."  
Damn it. Tyr could feel his life draining from him, bit by bit onto the floor. Pitch crouched down at his side, looking into his eyes.

"Listen to me. You're bleeding an awful lot. You need medical attention. You can't use your radio, 'cause they're listening, aren't they? So, it seems like your only hope right now is me. When I get to the machine shop, I'll send someone to get you. But to get there, I need a weapon. You'll protect yourself better by giving it to me than keeping it to yourself."

It was true, what he said, Tyr knew it. He could feel any doubts he should have had stilled by Pitch's words. He knew he shouldn't trust him, but right now, he did. He picked up his forcelance, making the necessary adjustments, and handed it over. 

"Good man," Pitch said, gave him the thinnest of smiles and disappeared into the smoke.

Tyr lay there on the ground wondering what the hell he had just done. Surrendering the only weapon he had left to somebody he did not trust a bit more than the Vertexans themselves. Well, that was what he had done, and now it looked like it was going to cost him his life. He remembered what Milon had told him about Pitch's ability to 'charm' people. Persuade them; trick them into trusting him. Obviously that must have been what happened. Tyr had not even felt anything, he had just been so sure that he was making the right decision. 

He had no idea how long he lay there. He could hear some gunfire in the distance and he could smell the overpowering, metallic scent of his own blood, but that was about it. There seemed to be some kind of black spots in his vision, he could not see properly. He felt tired but knew that if he succumbed to sleep he would not wake up again. But what was he waiting for? Pitch was obviously not going to send any help. He wanted Tyr dead, for reasons of his own; this must be the answer to his prayers.

Then, suddenly, he heard a gun being fired again, much closer this time. The sound of running footsteps. This was it, the end. They were heading his way, and he was completely defenceless. What a stupid, dishonourable death it was going to be. A figure appeared in the corridor, moving towards him. One thing was for sure, Tyr was not going to beg or try to crawl away. If he was going out like this, he refused to look pathetic doing it. Instead he closed his eyes. If he was really lucky, maybe they would think he was just another dead body.

The running footsteps came to a halt just beside his body. Whoever it was, they were crouching down, examining him. Well, the dead body trick was not going to work then. But the other man was very close to him now; maybe he could grab the gun off him and shoot him? Tyr was just about to take his last chance when he heard a familiar voice:

"Tyr... you alive?"

It was Milon. Tyr opened his eyes and saw the boy looking down at him with a worried look on his face.

"Yes."

Milon nodded and put his hands over Tyr's wound. This time Tyr did not even think of trying to stop him. The buzzing, numbing warmth swept through his body. With the pain gone, Tyr could almost feel the tissue knotting, healing up inside him. It tickled, twitched and burned a little, but in a nice way. There was no way his nanobots could have done this kind of repair this fast. Tyr closed his eyes for a minute, and when he opened them again he could see drops of perspiration on Milon's face. This was clearly taking a lot out of him, but when he took his hands off Tyr, the wound in his stomach had healed. Tyr stood up, still a little dizzy from the bloodloss, but that would soon pass. Milon got up too, staggering, and Tyr took a gentle hold of his shoulder to steady him.

"You saved my life," he said quietly.

"Well, Pitch told me where you were. Maybe it was a good thing you didn't kill him now, eh?"

He gave Tyr a pale smile.

"Yes. How are things coming along in the machine shop?"

"Alright, I think. I don't understand half of what he's saying, but he seems to know what he's talking about," Milon said, "Actually, we'd better get back there."

They returned to a mess of machinery and cables. Harper was working like a man possessed, putting together some kind of big device, connected to the computer. Pitch was standing by the door, watching him, but when Tyr and Milon entered the room he turned to them:

"Good job, Miles. He looks brand new."

Pitch gave him a smile, but there seemed to be something sad in it. Milon smiled wearily and then Pitch pressed the button on the forcelance to turn off the protection and tossed it to Tyr.

"That's yours, innit?"

Tyr caught it, a little surprised. He had half expected having to take it back by force. Well, seemed like this truce between them might actually stand a chance.

"Milon, come here a sec," Harper said, picking up a small rodshaped object from the workbench, "Let me have a look at your bio port. Have to see if I need to make an adapter for you. What fits me might not fit you."

"You're gonna jack me in?"

Milon sounded nervous. Almost worried. Harper gave him a quick look and then said:

"Yeah. I have to."

Milon looked at Pitch and then he walked over to Harper and hesitantly allowed him to carefully push the jack into the back of his neck.

"Hah! Like a glove! That doesn't hurt, does it?"

"No it's fine..."

But he sounded a little unsure. Then Dylan's voice came over the speakers:

"We have eliminated the intruders. It should be safe to use the comms again. The rift outside is starting to collapse though, and the Vertex has stopped firing, which can only mean that they are preparing to go through. Whatever it is you have planned, Harper, now would be the time."

"Almost done, boss."

Harper picked up the small box that was the transmitter Pitch must have handed over. He connected it to the computer and started pressing buttons. Tyr just watched as a number sequence started to come up on the screen.

"I'm getting it! I'm getting it! This is gonna work! Don't say I'm not the greatest!"

Harper was almost jumping up and down with excitement. And Tyr supposed it might be warranted, it was not every day he got to figure out the basics of interdimensional travel from scratch. Harper really was in his element here.

"Yes! That's the code! This is it!"

He quickly keyed in the numbers into a keypad attached to the new machine.

"I've already tuned up the external transmitters and Rommie's taking care of the power buffers. Hey presto, home made channeller a la Harper! Now all we need is enough juice, and of the right type, to run this thing. That's where Milon comes in."

Tyr frowned. Looked at Milon who was standing there with the cord coming out of his head, already looking pale and tired. Was Harper expecting him to power the machine? Did he not know what had happened in the corridor, only a few minutes ago?

"The Vertex is starting to move towards the fissure," Dylan said over the link.

Rommie's hologram flickered on next to Milon. 

"Are you ready?" she asked.

Milon nodded, eyes closed.

This was not good. Tyr might not know the specifics of this new machine, but if it was supposed to alter the nature of a cosmic event such as an opening between dimensions, he guessed that it would take an enormous amount of energy to accomplish the task. Obviously, Harper was working under the assumption that Milon was still fully... charged, or whatever. But Tyr had seen first hand how drained he had been after the Vertexans had tried something similar back on Earth. And just now... For some strange reason Tyr could feel his stomach contract, and it had nothing to do with his earlier injury. 

"Milon, are you sure you will be strong enough?" he asked quietly.

Milon opened his green eyes and looked at him. Tyr could see fear. Well masked, but not well enough to hide it from him.

"I'll have to, won't I?"

Tyr turned to look at Pitch. Surely, he must know what had happened? What might happen? Pitch met his eyes for a split second and then looked down. Oh yes, he knew. The anger flared up inside Tyr again. Before he had time to think it over, he had walked over to Pitch and grabbed a hold of his neck.

"You know this will not work! He is not strong enough! It will kill him!"

Pitch, strangely enough, did not struggle to free himself, but simply looked at Tyr.

"Well, try telling that to Miles. Don't you see what's on stake here? If he doesn't do it, the Vertex will destroy our home! Beka told me all about their plans. We'll never be able to go back. Our friends will die, everyone will die. He was always going to save the world, you know. Only difference is, he chose to save you first."

Tyr let him go and stepped back. He was right. Milon had put his whole world at risk to heal Tyr. Why? Tyr knotted his fists, feeling helplessly angry and hating it. 

"If we're gonna do this, it has to be now..." Harper said, tentatively.

"Yeah, we're doing it."

Milon closed his eyes again and grabbed a hold of the two conducting metal bars of the machine. He started glowing, and the light travelled down the length of the bars, making the needle in the window display quiver and rise to 0.1.

"We really should wear glasses..." Harper said absentmindedly as he stared at the glowing figure and rooted around behind him on the desk before tossing Tyr and Pitch a pair of dark goggles each.

Tyr put them on, but he really felt like telling Milon to stop. The light was growing stronger and stronger, past the point where it would have dazzled the naked eye, past the point where it would have blinded them. The needle was rising, rising in the little window. The machine was buzzing with power, and the numbers on the display underneath the one holding the co-ordinates Harper had set, were changing.

"It's working! Oh my god, it's actually working!" Harper breathed.

And it might be working, but was it fast enough, and at what cost? Milon's face was already a mask of pain, eyes and teeth clenched together, sweat dripping from his forehead and he was holding on so tight to the bars that Tyr could see every muscle in his arms. And still the light was getting brighter."Not far to go now!" Harper called over the loud buzz of the machine.

"The Vertex has almost reached the fissure," Dylan said over the link. 

Tyr felt like roaring at him to shut up.

Pitch had turned his face away, staring blankly at a point where the floor met the wall. Tyr looked back at Milon. The light was hurting his eyes now, even through the dark, protective glass of the goggles, but he could still make out Milon's face underneath the shine. Blood was running from his nose, over his lips, dripping slowly to the floor.

"Nearly there!" Harper shouted, "another few seconds!"

"The Vertex is entering the rift," Dylan said.

"It's almost done! Another two seconds!" Harper called.

Then Tyr could hear another sound over the humming of the machine. Milon was moaning in pain, a moan that was rapidly turning into a scream.

"The Vertex is..."

"Now!" Harper shouted.

The needle was in the red. The numbers were matching. A massive beam of energy was released from the machine, leaving the Andromeda, shooting straight into the fissure. They could see it all on the screen as Rommie's external sensors relayed the information in picture form. The last of the Vertex disappeared through the rift, which collapsed almost before they were through. The light disappeared. The machine fell silent. Milon did not. With a heartbreaking cry he fell to the floor, nose bleeding, hands scorched black where he had been holding the electrified rail. Only now, Harper seemed to be aware of how much energy he had actually generated.

"Oh my god... oh look at these readings... I've never seen... Milon, are you alright?"

Tyr could not control himself any longer. He knew that Harper was not being insensitive, just overwhelmed by the science of it all, but still. He walked up to the machine, pushed Harper out of the way so hard that he was thrown across the room, and knelt down beside Milon. He put his hand on Milon's neck to remove the cable from his head and got a small, electric shock as he touched him. Gently, he pulled the jack from his bio port, seeing black burn marks on the skin. 

"Trance," Harper called over the com link, "we need you down here."

Tyr turned Milon over on his back. He was unconscious, but breathing. Suddenly Pitch was at his side.

"Fucking hell Miles, you never quit, do you..." he mumbled, kneeling beside Tyr, "here, let me take him."

Tyr hesitated. He was still angry. Their eyes met again. Tyr could see the same feelings in Pitch's eyes. Anger. But not at Tyr, for a change; at himself. Just like Tyr. Maybe they were not so different after all, even though he hated to admit it. Reluctantly, Tyr stood up and let Pitch lift Milon's body off the ground. 

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------


	17. It's been emotional

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Chapter Seventeen: It's been emotional

Trance worked quickly and quietly, examining Milon and eventually deciding that there was really nothing she could do for him. There did not seem to be much actual damage done, again, the pure drainage of the energy was mainly to blame for his loss of consciousness. All the while, Tyr and Pitch stood there, watching, not knowing what else to do but not wanting to leave either.

"All we can do now is wait," she said, "let me know if he wakes up, I have to go and take a look at Beka's arm... it's only a scratch, but I should give her something to prevent an infection..."

Trance gave Milon's motionless body a last look and then she disappeared out the door, leaving Tyr and Pitch alone with their unconscious friend and an uncomfortable silence. Friend? Was that what he was now? Tyr could not believe he had gone so soft so quickly. But why should he feel stupid? Were Nietzscheans not allowed to have friends? As long as he did not let it blind his senses or lure him into some kind of trap, there really was nothing wrong with it, was there? Still, he felt irritated and... disappointed in himself. His own welfare was supposed to be his only concern, that was how you survived, and he really should know better than this.

Pitch walked up to the bed and looked down at Milon's sleeping form. He was not touching him, or even saying anything, but Tyr could tell from his posture and bowed head that there was more sadness and worry in him than he was letting on.

"The rift is closed. You will not be able to go through. All this waste of energy for nothing..." Tyr said.

Pitch spun around and gave him that cold, hard, black-eyed stare again. 

"For nothing? At least now there'll be a home to go to!"

"But you might never get another opportunity. If so, the boy risked his life to do something that he will never get any benefit from. That is a waste."

"You really are the most self-centred excuse for a... humanoid in the universe, aren't you?"

"It is pure logic," Tyr said, disregarding the insult for now, "what Milon did, is not."

Pitch's face softened a little. He turned his back on Tyr, looking at Milon once again, and said:

"No, I guess he was never much for the logic. Always operated more on feeling, this one. And he just won't ever give up. Never would."

"I have noticed."

Silence fell over the room again. The electric hostility between them had been numbed down to quiet dislike. Still, Tyr wished nothing more than for Pitch to leave and never come back. But if the portal could not be re-opened, and considering the fact that Dylan had offered Milon a place with the crew, it seemed unlikely that he would get his wish anytime soon.

"So, will your... thing on you arm, will it grow back?" Pitch finally asked, looking at Tyr with some kind of small, half-sly, half-guilty smile.

"Eventually," Tyr answered, frowning at the memory of breaking bodyparts.

"Really shouldn't have tried to strangle me, eh?" Pitch said, the smile gone now.

"Trust me, if I wanted you dead, you would not be standing here now."

Pitch just gave him a scornful smile. He was younger than Tyr, that was obvious, maybe as much as ten years younger. Still, there was nothing of that youthful innocence about him that Milon had. As if to put Tyr's thoughts into words, Pitch said:

"You don't thing bigger, badder guys than you have wanted me dead before?"

In all fairness, Tyr did not know what to say to that.

"No," was all that sprung to mind.

"Oh, I see! Well, maybe after this is over, we can pick up where we left off, in the training room!"

"I would be more than happy to!"

The fragile peace between them was shattered by their raised voices. Pitch was just about to shout some new insult at Tyr when a pale hand took a loose hold of his wrist.

"You two fighting again?" Milon mumbled with half-closed eyes, "am I gonna have to... sort you both out...?"

"Hey, you're awake! How're you feeling?"

"I've been better... my head hurts."

"I will go and get Trance," Tyr said. 

The bridge was a chaotic mess of broken consoles and loose wires. This would take weeks to repair. Luckily, nobody seemed to have got seriously hurt. Dylan was standing in the middle of the room, looking at the devastation around him with a tired look on his face. Trance was winding some kind of bandage around Beka's arm, and Harper was already repairing the most essential parts of the ship. They would get over it.

"Trance, Milon is awake," Tyr said.

"Already?" 

She gave him a huge smile, like she had not even dared to hope for such a speedy recovery. 

"Well, I've got some news for him," Harper said, "That machine I built... he must've charged it good, because it's still working! If they have the co-ordinates of wherever it is they come from... I can send them home!"

Tyr found he had no comment on that. As Trance got up and left for medical, all he could do was stand there and look at the debris around him. Apart from Harper, everybody seemed to share this feeling of... gloominess. Eventually, Dylan said:

"If you are going to do it, Harper, it will have to be soon. We have places to go, things to do... sitting around here is just... a waste of time."

Tyr knew he was right. But Beka gave Dylan a distinctly sour look from her place in the chair. It seemed like she was not to keen on the idea of their guests going home. Tyr knew how she felt. Although nobody would be happier to see the back of Pitch than him, he still had that small, nagging feeling of discontent. He had got used to having Milon around, and if he left it would be... strange.

It was late evening and a soft, yellow light filled the medical room as Tyr stepped through the door. By now, surely somebody would have told Milon about the possibility for their return to their own dimension. Tyr had spent the last few hours punching a bag in the gym, so he did not yet know what decisions had been made. 

Rommie had told him that Pitch was not in the medical bay, and that was all Tyr needed to know. He wanted to speak to Milon, but not if his over-confident, black-eyed friend was around.

Milon looked as if he was sleeping, just lying there with his eyes closed, but his breathing told Tyr that he was in fact awake. Maybe he did not want to be disturbed, but Tyr did not care about that right now.

"Harper has told you about his discovery?" Tyr said without further hesitation.

Milon opened his eyes and looked at Tyr with a pained expression. His head was clearly still hurting.

"Yeah..."

"So what is your decision?"

"Can we not do this right now..."

Milon put a hand over his eyes and turned his face away. Suddenly, Tyr felt very impatient. They were going to do this now! He was sick and tired of having to adapt his life around these strangers! Only Milon was not a stranger. Not anymore.

"No, I need to know now! Opening another rift in the fabric of the universe is a big decision, and a big security risk! If you have any plans for that, I need to know!"

Milon turned his head back towards Tyr and squinted at him through his headache. For a second, Tyr almost thought he saw a smile on the boy's face, but that must have been his imagination.

"Well, Pitch will want to go back... so I guess, yeah, we'll be using the machine. Is that what you need to know?"

"And what about you?"

"I don't know..."

"Well it is time that you made your mind up!"

Tyr did not mean to shout at him, but something made him raise his voice. This irrational, uncharacteristic, stupid feeling inside him was just getting too annoying. What did he care if Milon left? He was _not_ family, _not_ anybody that Tyr should be concerned with. It was time to put an end to this nonsense. Milon frowned even more at Tyr's loud words. But he did not answer him.

"Then I will decide for you," Tyr said angrily, "You should leave. You do not belong here, either of you. If you saw the devastation the attack did to the Andromeda, I am sure you would agree that you are presenting more of a threat to this ship and crew than you could ever be of benefit. The sooner you go back to your own dimension, the better it will be for all of us!"

Milon looked at him for a few seconds in silence. Tyr clenched his teeth and stared back at him coldly. He was not going to take back what he had said. He was not going to apologise. This had to end.

"Okay," Milon said at last, "maybe you're right."

Tyr caught a quick glimpse of sadness in his eyes, then he closed them again, ignoring Tyr's presence. He looked like a sleeping child like that, all rolled into the grey blankets. Tyr spun around and stormed out of the room. Come to think of it, that bag in the gym could do with a bit more punching.

It must have been nearly morning when Tyr finally decided to get some sleep. As he undressed in his quarters, his eyes suddenly fell on the pale scar on his stomach. It looked like an old injury, a relic from some past battle. But not more than twelve hours ago it had been an open wound, a direct threat to his life. It would have killed him, if it had not been for Milon's remarkable healing power. If there was ever a next time Tyr would get injured like that, telling Milon to leave today might actually prove to cost Tyr his own life. Yes, who could tell how much damage those words in the medical room would do, long term? Tyr ran his fingers along the scar. If Milon stayed, Tyr was going to lose some of the ruthlessness and detachment he was so proud of, he knew that. It had already happened, to a far too big extent. It was a no win situation.

Suddenly, a knock at the door pulled Tyr out of his gloomy thoughts. Who could it be at this hour? Milon was not well enough to leave medical and come and talk to him, even if that would have been what Tyr would have expected most at a time like this. Anybody else would have waited until morning. Curious, he threw on a dressing gown and went to answer the door.

"He's got to go!"

It was Beka, of all people, and she seemed... upset. Actually, furious was a more accurate description.

"Who are you talking about?" Tyr asked.

"Pitch! Dylan seems to think that we can just keep him on the ship because he knows Milon! But I'm telling you, if he stays, I'm taking the Maru and I'm going!"

Puzzled, Tyr stepped aside and let her walk into the room. Before he had a chance to ask any questions, Beka started speaking again, pacing up and down with an angry look on her face.

"Now don't get me wrong, I've nothing against Milon, he's a sweet kid, but that man! Argh!"  
She knotted her hands into fists and punched the air in front of her.

"What has happened? I was under the impression that you liked him?" Tyr said calmly.

"Yeah, well, not anymore! Actually, probably not ever! I just thought I did! I mean, I should have known better, it's not like me to fall so easily!"

Fall? What was she talking about falling? This was not good.

"You are not making any sense."

Tyr crossed his arms across his chest and waited patiently for her to calm down.

"He used his... power or whatever on me! And nobody told me, just stood by as I was being manipulated! I bet you were all laughing behind my back! And then he's got the nerve to just snub me like some teenage schoolgirl! I'm telling you, I'd love to get back at him! But he's not even worth my time, I just want him gone!"

"I agree," Tyr said.

If he had needed any further reason to hate Pitch, this was certainly it. 

"We will speak with Dylan in the morning," Tyr decided.

Beka just nodded and started walking out. When she reached the door, she turned around and looked at Tyr.

"Glad you're not dead," she said.

"Yes. Me too."

She nodded and gave him a small smile. Perhaps the damage done was not completely irreparable after all. Tyr went to bed and like always; he fell asleep straight away. He had the strangest dreams about bright lights in dark places. Looking for something he could not find and feeling guilty about what was missing. When he woke up the next day, the feeling was still there. It seemed like he was one of those rare occasions when he would have to admit to himself that he had made a mistake. A mistake he had to rectify sooner rather than later. Because later it would be too late.

As Tyr entered the medical room, he found Trance sitting on the side of Milon's bed, her arms wrapped around the boy. It seemed like she had got where she wanted to get at last, so why was she crying? Tyr walked up to the bed.

"Trance! What is wrong with you?"

She quickly wiped her eyes and looked up at him. Milon let her go but would not meet Tyr's eyes for some reason.

"Nothing you would understand," Trance said bitterly and jumped down from the bed and ran out the door. 

Sometimes the girl's strange moodswings were really too much even to try and understand. Tyr turned his attention back to Milon, who was sitting up in the bed, looking very, very pale indeed.

"Has your condition improved?"

"Is that your way of asking am I feeling better?" Milon said.

There was something sharp in his voice, but Tyr chose to ignore it for now.

"Yes."

"I'll be fine."

"I wanted to speak to you about yesterday..." Tyr started, rather hesitantly.

"Don't bother. You were right. And we're doing it this afternoon."

So soon. Somehow, Tyr had not expected that. 

"I have thought about what I said," Tyr continued, as if he had not heard what Milon said, "and I have decided that I was... wrong. It was said in anger."  
Milon looked mildly surprised.

"What were you angry for?"

Tyr could not answer that.

"Well," Milon continued, "turns out you were right anyway. I would be more of a problem than anything else. That's what happens."

"No..."

"Yeah." 

Milon nodded slowly, as if to say that was the end of it. Then he swung his legs over the side of the bed and stood up. He really did not look like he was ready to go anywhere yet. He looked weak... fragile. But determined. And was that not the one quality that Tyr admired the most in him?

"I'm gonna go say goodbye to Dylan and Beka..." Milon said quietly.

"Before the Vertex attacked, you were determined to stay!" Tyr said, "What has changed?"

Milon looked up at him.

"I guess I just remembered what it was like to fight for something. When the Vertex was threatening to wipe out my homeworld, I suppose I realised that I actually do care what happens, even if I've tried hard enough not to."

He shrugged his shoulders and started walking towards the door. But there was something about that statement that seemed wrong to Tyr, and just before Milon walked through the door, he remembered what it was.

"But you risked it all," he called after the boy, "...to... heal me. Why?"

Milon turned around and gave him that mild, almost sedate smile.

"Guess I owed you one."

"I would not have done the same thing for you," Tyr said.

"Ah, Tyr, the caring never stops with you, does it?"

Milon turned towards the door again, but stopped. Turned around and looked at Tyr with his head slightly tilted and a strange smile growing on his face.

"What?" Tyr said eventually, annoyed.

"You're lying."

So, he had used his ability to read Tyr's feelings. Damn. Before Tyr had a chance to defend himself, Milon had opened the door and left the room without looking back.

It was early evening as they were standing in the machine shop, watching Harper make the necessary adjustments to the machine. The co-ordinates of Milon's homedimension had been easily retrieved from the transmitter that Pitch had brought. There was enough power to open one rift, Harper had explained, but after that, the machine would be useless. So, they had better get it right the first time.

"Almost ready," Harper said, "if there's anything else you want to do, you'd better do it now."

"Ready when you are," Pitch said.

"Are you sure you don't want to stay," Dylan said, "You know my offer still stands."

"No, it's better this way."

Milon looked down at the floor.

"Well, goodbye then," Dylan said, "it was nice to meet you."

"Yeah, thanks. You too."

They shook hands and then Beka gave Milon a hug. Dylan shook Pitch's hand as well and then Trance put her arms around Milon, looking almost like she had no intention of letting go.

Tyr just watched it all from a distance. Pitch was giving Beka a strange smile as he said:

"You still pissed off at what happened?"

"You used me!" she hissed, quietly enough, but not so that Tyr couldn't hear it.

"I thought it seemed pretty mutual... anyway, I don't regret it for a second. No hard feelings, eh?"

He was holding out his hand to her. Tyr could see a very thin smile appear on her face, and he was not happy to see it. As she shook his hand, Harper suddenly jumped over the railing of the machine and shouted:

"This is it! It should be opening right here in... five, four, three, two..."

He pointed at the end of the room where the machine was, and just as he did, the air in the room seemed to turn... wobbly. The far wall went semi-transparent, and through it, Tyr could see a dark street with some ruined, dilapidated houses. The rain was coming down in dark sheets there on the other side of the veil. Was that their home? It looked terribly dreary.

"Sorry to see you go mate," Harper said as he shook Milon's hand, "This thing should stay open for a few minutes, but that's all..."

"We'd better get moving then," Pitch said impatiently.

"Yeah, I'm coming..."

Milon turned to look at Tyr where he was standing up against the wall. Tyr had not even meant to come here to see them leave. He had just found it impossible to stay away.

"Miles, what're you doing, we don't have all day!" Pitch said, frowning as Milon walked across the room to where Tyr was standing.

"So, we're not gonna say goodbye then?" Milon asked, his green eyes looking straight into Tyr's dark brown.

"If you must..."

Milon laughed softly at him. Where it should probably have annoyed Tyr, it only made him feel sad. But there was nothing he could do about it now. He had wasted his chance, told Milon the total opposite of what he should have said, and now it was too late to fix it. Suddenly, he wished that he had something he could have given him as a parting gift. I was ridiculous, perhaps, but it still felt like the right thing to do. But he had nothing that would be fitting. Eventually, he pulled his gun out of its holster and handed it to Milon, who took it with a bewildered look on his face.

"I should have given you this the first time you asked me. I do not care if you never use it, but whatever you do... look after yourself."

"Wow... thanks!"

Milon looked genuinely impressed, so maybe it was a good gift after all. Then, before Tyr had a chance to stop him, Milon gave him a quick, hard hug. Tyr did not have time to either push him away or return the gesture before it was over and Milon had started walking away from him, across the room, towards the opening between the dimensions. As Pitch stepped through to the other side, Milon gave them all a quick wave and followed him onto the streets of whatever the city beyond was. Tyr could still see them, but the air seemed to thicken suddenly and the image went blurry and unstable. Then the walls were back. Solidifying. And the machine went quiet. Everything was quiet. Everything was back to normal. Time to get on with the rest of his life.

And that is the end.

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A/N: Okay, so I'm no good with ends! And I told you I was running out of ideas. To be honest though, I'm kinda happy I finished the thing at all. It was just starting to drag on a bit too much, and not much happened. Well, that's it, my first fanfic done. Thanks to all you who bothered reading and reviewing, it made it worth while writing the thing. Now, if you have something to say about the whole lot, it'd be nice to hear your opinions. 

All the best

-Channeller

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